I am the blank canvas.

 

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I never said you could take my page,

dampen down my internal rage.

I never asked for this haunting silence

a metaphorical pain that’s worse than violence.

I never said you could have my words

or make my page a fucked up blur.

I never asked for your opinion

so I tell you now you have no dominion.

Drop a silent atom bomb upon my soul

and gather up the thoughts you think you stole.

Steal away the edges of my sanity

and try your hardest to install some vanity.

Pull at the essence of my being

and blind me from feeling what i’m seeing.

Sink me into the abyss of darkness

beneath an emerald sky so starless.

Try your hardest.

Know what it is to fail as I rise again from the ashes

a seasoned traveler I’ve mastered the crashes.

I am not your blank canvas

a tired mind empty and planless.

I am the thoughts that spill to my page

that slip between the bars of the iron cage.

I am the essence of touch in the darkness of night

devouring with passion my every sight.

So go ahead do your best,

create the silence that I detest.

Erase the markings leave only the spaces

where actually you’ll find crimson red laces.

I am more than the words, the thoughts or the gestures,

I am the blank canvas just waiting for treasure.

 

Karen Hayward ©2016

 

 

 

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