Paint

So what am I to you?
A figment of your imagination?
A beat in your heart?
A whisper from your lips?

I try to be what you have been dying to see,
But it's not enough.
Is it better if the flames consume my body
And burn it into something new?
Tell me, darling.
I'm listening.

If you can't decide,
Then that's why your canvas is empty.
Paint me, baby.
Paint me to be what you consider the ultimate.
You are the artist,
I am the paper.

Hurry before the paint dries.

Reviews

[Emily B]

a stunning little write. Love the sarcasm.