10/26/21
crimson red,
a colour so appealing on a flower,
yet so intimidating on our canvas;
a layer destined on our lips,
yet forbidden on our brush;
a petal all and sundry wants to have,
yet everyone fears to be used as paint;
a thread some of us sew on ourselves,
in order to sustain a life we're willing to live; or
perhaps, the thread that was excreted,
in order to let the spiders from within fleet.
they have already swooned,
as they circulated a fragment of ourselves.
they have cheered,
as they accomplished their glee worthy task.
the canva's now painted crimson red
— i'm in pain, a'las.
the canva's now painted crimson red
— i'm in pain, a'las.
YOU ARE READING
Broken Arteries
Poesi↪ handmade poetry from someone who was once yet oft scarred. status: on-going date started | march.05.2021 date ended |
