These bruises
And scars.
Half-cut smiles,
And broken stars.
Little insides that
Die daily to
Humiliation and
Self-sabotage.
The taints we
Nourish to grow
Colors..
A slang from you,
An Arrow from
Another.
Our palette,
Full of blame
Is pretty much
Borrowed.
We're poets sire,
We paint in words,
Take on nerves and
Live in shadows.
You may not
Recognize us.
We don't reside in
Hearts that are hollow.
Come and see us,
If you've time.
We're just a
Thought away.
If you peep in
Your head,
In search of aesthetics
In the dust
Of your mind..
Hello..!
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