Crooked Canvas
Crooked Canvas i am a crooked canvas my lines are small and cross my colors mixed in madness my cracks now filled with loss moments bring new colors shades of becoming me some are light and vibrant others dark and free brush strokes come in patterns cycles that seem real yet with each stroke i cut my yoke and dance to what I feel feelings found their colors layered on sated skin yet with each splat all hope fell flat while drowning in my sin who am i, i wondered as images took new shape fear a font of furry that stabbed at me with hate in the midst of my self loathing i moved to seek some light this dark red hue neglects the blue that called me in the night moving out of darkness i see new shades of green with squinting eyes i shed the lies that melt in sun lights gleam matt francis