And when you ask why you should never fall inlove with an artist I will say
He painted beautiful lies right before my eyes
He colored illusions in my mind
On my body he imprinted his signature with fine strokes
He left wet kisses on my skin and called it water colors
His brush left me shaking between my tighs
Our love was on public display for every admirer to see
Everyone interpreted our master piece in the way they felt
We were a beautiful art ,a figment of my own imagination
To him I was just a temporary muse
An imperfect piece created for leisure and needed to be permanently tucked away unseen from the public eyes
YOU ARE READING
Poetry For The Broken
Poetrycollection of my written poetry if you are sad it might make you sadder
