The Imaginary Friend.
Something was different today. You were here
But you were gone. Where?
I don't know the person you are now.
You used to be so happy and light,
Now the dark clouds have moved in to stay.
Was it me? Did I fail you? I used to be your clown,
but now you frown more then you smile.
I'm sorry to go now. But the little girl I once cared for is gone,
So I too take my leave. I would rather fade and be forgotten,
then to look at you and remember what once was.
The Artist
A gentle scrape of blade on bone, a tender kiss of pain/
Whispers through your raven hair, assurances of things to be/
An audience of shadows attend us here, my steady hands to see/
The shimmer glint of the silver slit, the cold shine of my life/
To paint in lines of red, to make them join and meat/
Ts my art and my joy to paint apart, beauty to be carved/
Why is my canvas dead?
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