everything has turned to a blur of
mere outlines of shapes and base colors
that my eyes try to trace over,
but each line that's drawn is off,
a line from an alternate world
my mind has brought into mine.
each attempt to fix what's gone wrong
creates a land of eraser shavings
and rivers of indentions of
where my pencil crashes upon the paper;
my shaking hands have lost control
and fall upon my head
as all these lines enclose my mind,
a prison
not even the worst criminal masterminds can break out of.
but in this chaos,
you're the only one still human,
and i wish to do nothing
but let my eyes paint you.
• • •
art breaks me.
a/n: wow this poem sucks but needed something to post. i was wondering if i should start another book and if any of you lovelies would read it? it's unrelated to this and not really a book, just a collection of short writings that describe the world around me. it's mostly just for practice to improve my writing skills but uh yeah, tell me your thoughts in the comments. thanks <3
edit: book mentioned above is out now. find it on my account, titled "L I M N" :)