these filthy canvasses show how i truly love to write
but also represents how messy i am
these obscenities changed how i see my works
aesthetically failures wound every finger i used in writing
even the soul who fervently writes dies
every word and imagery used does not suit the mess
these made me far from the rays that love could give
mess and stains are all i have
YOU ARE READING
ninth avenue - poetry
Poetry__ heavenly bodies only know where you are now. maybe i was not holding on too tight as you slipped away. wasn't i still yours? __
