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Artistry - text

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I let every thought,
thread a weft of yarn,
weaving through the warps
a tapestry of us...
If I make my arms,
the home you seek,
If I sway my brush,
Would I capture thee?
If I hang your scars
in a gallery
as a work of artistry...
May I clean your slate & wipe your conscience,
lay it on another shelf,
I'll be anything you ever ask.
I'll take your memories upon myself
If you keep my thoughts & thieve my wisdom,
I will find another shell,
I don't ever want to be the selfish reason,
you don't ever find yourself.
I felt every thought
claw the strands apart,
weaving into knots
a travesty of us...
If I stay my arms & I pull your sleeve,
If I snap my brush
Would you trust in me?
If I trace your scars,
with the broken piece,
as a work of artistry...
May I clean your slate & wipe your conscience,
lay it on another shelf,
I'll be anything you ever ask.
I'll take your memories upon myself
If you keep my thoughts & thieve my wisdom,
I will find another shell,
I don't ever want to be the selfish reason,
you don't ever find yourself.
Watching the needle thread through every pore,
She told me shading made everything more
beautiful, but I don't see it at all,
I'm more deranged than before.
Standing in paint as it pools on the ground,
colours of empathy blending with doubt,
witnessing everything melting around
until I drown...
May I clean your slate & wipe your conscience,
lay it on another shelf,
I'll be anything you ever ask.
I'll take your memories upon myself
If you keep my thoughts & thieve my wisdom,
I will find another shell,
I don't ever want to be the selfish reason,
you don't ever find yourself.
May I clean your slate & wipe your conscience,
lay it on another shelf,
I'll be anything you ever ask.
I'll take your memories upon myself
If you keep my thoughts & thieve my wisdom,
I will find another shell,
I don't ever want to be the selfish reason,
you don't ever find yourself.

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