(working on title) (S.M)

you say

art is your life

yet another paints your smile

your body is a canvas

for a private viewing 

yet you began letting

another see

all while, i’ll

pretend i’m okay

that she gets to watch 

your confidence bloom

allowing her to touch-up 

the canvas i completed

yet you told me

there was no more room

she adds a new color

but the brush is still wet

she starts to paint again

until her preference 

is met

she doesn’t know, that

the wash will bleed

and the “mess” will grow

she’ll think it’s ruined

but i’ll see

a new way to strengthen

your auras glow

the picture i painted,

now, covered

colors i used,

being smothered

underneath another’s,

idea

the part of you,

that is also me,

will never be seen

instead, 

a mix of you &

her

with me stuck in between 

new eyes

will be greeted,

a canvas,

the canvas

she left of you

the chaos of red

she splashed , over 

our collectively picked

shades of blue

her careless strokes 

wants you to

forget the masterpiece

of what you once knew

you wanted an artist

but you let

the artist take control of you

as a canvas

you were forced to believe

that the artist ,

the only one

with a paintbrush,

was the only

to conceive

EXTENDED:

the end of one

leads to the start of anew (a new)

painting a fresh canvas

yet this one 

looks just like 

you

i use shades of purple

until my hands turn blue

impossible to make an exact copy

so restarting, again

is what i’ll do

-Synn/Daystar