My Paints
One smack to her face
and one tear down her chin.
Quickly I embrace her
and let this anger end.
I love this girl.
But my anger block that out.
She never knows my true feelings
everytime I scream and shout.
Something heavy weighs me down.
It’s the monster inside me.
I am fighting it hard
but it’s winning so brutally.
Her face is a painting
without my unnecessary colors.
Her face so beautiful
without my blacks, blues and others.
She is not surprised.
Another time she has to forgive.
Because without each other,
how much longer can we live?
Red isn't my favorite color
but it seeps down her face.
Only time it's so beautiful
but I see her disgrace.
She doesn't like my colors.
She is not grateful.
The monster arrives inside me
as I become hateful.
Her friends tell her to leave
But they couldn't understand
That me and my baby
We go hand in hand
Jealousy is green
Thats a nice color too
My baby doesn't think so
So I paint the color blue
My knuckles, are scary purple .
But it is just art.
I paint when I'm angry
every second we’re apart.
My baby doesn’t like my colors
but I think they mix well.
She screams she is leaving.
She’d be better off in hell.
YOU ARE READING
For the Misfits
PuisiI put my all into these poems and now I'm putting them out there. So this is for everyone who's emotions are so confusing that they have a hard time deciphering them. This is for the people who feel outcasted from society. The one they threw away. T...
