Plop!
No, no, no!
That can't possibly be right-
Pink is bad
Only red
Clear is bad too
It makes the red pink
I hate pink.
Help me find the red, please.
Oh-
You can help right?
Yes, surely you are the perfect thing...
I love the way you shine
The way if I hold you to the light at the perfect angle
I'll see myself
But you're so small
How could you make me see the red?
Is it I who makes myself see the red?
Or is it you who helps to make me see the red?
'Tis be a team effort, indeed.
I cannot see red without you
But can I?
I see the red if I tear the hangnail off far enough
Or if I fall off my bike
Or if my uterus attacks me for the week
How is it that I need you so much?
Aren't you just a useless piece of metal?
Aren't you?
Oh, but I need you-
I do.
The sting feels nice-
Makes me feel something-
Anything
I need you to make me feel the pain I deserve
I need you to make me see the red
I love red.
I'll be the canvas if you be the paintbrush.
The red shall be the paint...
And together...
Together we shall make a mural.
YOU ARE READING
The Canvas
PoetryXX THIS BOOK OF POETRY WILL CONTAIN MEDIA AND CONTENT THAT SOME VIEWERS MAY FIND UNSUITABLE OR TRIGGERING! IF YOU ARE SENSITIVE TO DEPRESSION, ANXIETY, SELF-HARM, ABUSE, RAPE, ANGST OR ANYTHING IN BETWEEN, PLEASE DO NOT READ! YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED...
