the blade acts as my brush,
your flesh,
my canvas.
i peel back
your layers
like a flower,
skin to muscle,
muscle to bone.
i wouldn't call it dissection,
but artwork.
intricate systems
and sanguine textures,
truly god's best work.
i just wish the blood didn't stain.
YOU ARE READING
•metamorphism of me• [finished]
Poésiejust a collection of shitty writings from ya girl
artist
the blade acts as my brush,
your flesh,
my canvas.
i peel back
your layers
like a flower,
skin to muscle,
muscle to bone.
i wouldn't call it dissection,
but artwork.
intricate systems
and sanguine textures,
truly god's best work.
i just wish the blood didn't stain.