shelf love

Darkness is in the critic
that finds flaws in my love
perfecting it and shaping it
to sell me as tough
I’m not on discount
although I play myself to be
maybe that’s why my love fails
miserably
my smile comes with the package
seducing you away
it’s the way I found to say
unwrap me lover boy
and grab me real tight
make me your new story
of endless love and light
I may be a dreamer
a sucker for fantasy
knocked down by pain
I am humble and insane
lucky day for you
you just found the best of me
little do you know
that you’re buying gold for free

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100 Colours

Watching my thoughts go by and by, like a work of art constantly evolving in a chaotic structure, to nowhere specifically, with no sense apparently.

I put down the brush and look behind the canvas. And as I look, 100 colours drip from my fingers and colour my soul. They dance. This is the first work of art that I can truly call mine – not a copy of my favourite impressions, but my own visceral creation.