Poem A Day

July Twenty-Seventh (Free Canvas)

Canvas cut, canvas cut, canvas cut,

Brittle bones beneath the meat,

And all the red is all you need.

I'd rather be a canvas free,

To make the stains be part of me,

But canvas cut and canvas cut,

I was too close, I was too much,

For you.

Too little, too.

Too everything you didn't need,

Too less a man, too tough to bleed.

Too color blue, with yellow veins,

And all my reds were just your stains,

Your beauty changed,

The canvas plain into my pain.

So canvas cut and canvas cut,

Let me saw these pieces away.

I hold my hand and stop the strain,

This red was not all lover,

There is no shame to cover,

Or tear away.

I have to accept for myself that you changed me,

I laugh to know that I love what we did,

And as the sunsets fall in all my memory,

I want these reds I have tried to rid.