Paint a portrait of my soul.
Tell me,
is it as corrupted as they say?
Tell me,
am I Dorian Gray?
Have I fallen for my facade,
for these suits and ties,
and forgotten my soul,
locked away for none to see?
Was my mistake showing it to her,
to bare my soul in black ink,
and then let her go
to tell all of my shame?
If I am so lost,
give me the bloodied knife,
so I may destroy my portrait
and put an end to it all.
-Zero
To be broke, to be broken: set me free. Hear my plea.
ReplyDeleteDo I feel safe and loved enough to share it equally to myself? Answers will be revealed in time.
"I am not empty space Love". This sentence is from someone's poem I have read last year in a Facebook group named
The Earth without ART is just "EH".