i am a figment of my own imagination
this life is a road paved by dull creativity
my hands are made of brush strokes
of a shaking artist
my face is the work of picasso
all the beautiful pieces are there:
full lips, dark hair, sharp jaw.
they're all just too out of place
to become the beautiful girl they suggest
my body is a young painter;
they say modern art is born ugly
if you are blue nude
i am dora maar au chat
the only beauty i contain is poetry
made from these harmful thoughts
