October 6, 2023 2:22am - 2:29am
I'm a used canvas.
Easily discarded, easily tossed;
Easily painted over to start anew.
I come to you blank, but with layers:
Colours under a white,
All of which, meant to hide the truth.
When you cut me open I bleed.
And this colour, these mistakes,
Shine through
But only for a few seconds,
Only for another moment or two.
After all, it's only a little scar
We'll cover that one up with white paint too.
YOU ARE READING
Pleas of Futility
Non-FictionMy innermost thoughts; My innermost secrets, And now... They belong to you.
