I trace the lines,
from a picture that comes into my mind.
Life is painted gold and bright,
a masterpiece of love and light,
I see the laughter, hear the joy,
but my hands shake, and my colors fade.
My nails dig into my skin
The pain doesn't bother me at all.
I wait up all night
Hoping for one stupid call.
And God, it hurts.
I ache,
silence spills into my veins,
into my skin,
I carve it out, but it creeps back in.
If you can forget, if you can be free,
then why should this pain still anchor me?
But time, the thief, with quiet tread,
turns things into shreds.
in every song, in every face.
I try to listen; it fades.
Do you remember? The promises made?
You look right through me, like I don’t exist—
How did we go from that first,
To this?
I feel the weight of the world.
It's temporary,
Then it’s the mirror,
whispering lies I can’t unhear,
The thoughts I can’t escape,
the voices so near.
So I draw in silence, slow and deep,
lines that whisper, lines that weep.
artists paint, poets write,
dreamers dance in bright light,
their hands stained deep,
and I draw, too.
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