Unfinished Painting

To You...

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Here I sit.

There I stand.

And for a long time I shall remain

in this image you've long ago depicted in your hazel brown.

 

Here she comes

There she goes.

But she won't wander far.

Do you see that tree across the street? Outside the prison she had put herself in?

That's how far her cowardly breath would wander.

 

What is this...? No. Stop. I will go far. I can.

I see the train.  I see the canoe down the stream.

They shall take me to a greener land, or a cleaner shore. With a lovelier sunset.

 

But I stayed. Not because you made me. Not because you could afford a lock and a creaking door.

 

I stayed to try to make you feel...feel anything.

I stayed so you can look at me, into my eyes. Not just pass by me.

 

I stayed and now you've snatched a paintbrush blended those amazing bright colors together. You chose the yellowish brown for my hair, the pink blush for my cheeks, the green glint in my eyes, the reddish lips, the soft pastel fingers, the blue and white frock, and the neat black shoes. But these were simply the bases. The beginning layers that inspired you. Then you made a grey depressing stroke across my face, right where my tears were frittered. You've dropped the brush from your coarse hand and left me alone on that easle. Alone and untended to and unfinished.

 

What are you doing? Am I not good enough? Do you not see me as your beautiful creation? Where are you going? Come back and guide me...please. I don't know what my name is. Choose one for me. I don't know how to talk, walk. Teach me.

 

Come closer to me, don't worry, I won't bite. I won't burn you with my forsaken glare. I'm not that cruel.

 

I shall only slice you once in one piece of your skin...then I shall slice you again in the same wound right before it dries and heals.

 

I will do it over and over and I will try to entertain myself everytime you complain to me: It stings,

 

I will hurt you,

 

so that my voice can reach you beyond the easel in that dusty chamber,

 

I will hurt you.

 

Because I love you.

Author's Note

Comment, reviews, corrections are welcome. I haven't revised this piece yet.

*Image title: The Birth of Color
*By *firestarter1988
*Link: http://firestarter1988.deviantart.com/art/the-Birth-of-Color-168542753

Reviews

[Rodney Russ]

I loved it. very beautiful and moving.

[Janice Ann]

Ok...well this was visually stimulating and the words sort of just kicked me in the a*s. I absolutely love the ending. I loved the fact that you stated, I will hurt you because I love you. Going into my favorites!

[PaperDoll]

As usual, excellent work. "I stayed so you can look at me, into my eyes. Not just pass by me." That's a lovely line, and being an artist myself I loved all the artsy references. Wounding for love is something I am familiar with.

[Frantzuu]

Agreed with the comment below me, this is so bloody f*****g awesome! lol
I can hear the voice speaking in my head, it's so original. Awesome poem, going straight to my collection. F*****g epic! lol

[MissWordSmith]

bloody f*****g hell this was FANTASTIC! and so original.
cruel love affair between painter and painting.

''...then I shall slice you again in the same wound right before it dries and heals. ''
man, that made me shiver.
this is going to my favorites. f**k ya.. i dont even swear normally. I'm just so blown away by this!

[Emily B]

very tall work

OMG! i REEAALLLY LOVE THISS!!! see i'm a painter n all. .. i think i was trying to write something yesterday that combined painting or art and love. You just did it for me. Awesome stuff here!

[qaralynn]

wow this is a really creative and interesting write!!! you're really talented..

[angelina]

I like it. It says to me that 'you' made 'me' into the person/painting/figure 'I' am today and now 'you' don't know what do do with 'me' since 'I' have become all that 'you' want me to be and more. It sounds like a suffocating love/relationship. A sad yet lovely thing often mistaken for obsession.

[Chloe..Across the Unive..]

For me this is an impressive poem .. it has so much within each line..
This verse :

"I stayed and now you've snatched a paintbrush and made a grey depressing stroke across my face, right where my tears were frittered. You've dropped the brush from your coarse hand and left me alone on that easle. Alone and untended to and unfinished."

The verse is sad to be 'unfinished and alone"
but perhaps a lovers revenge..a metaphor ..

"I shall only slice you once in one piece of your skin...then I shall slice you again in the same wound right before it dries and heals.


I will do it over and over and I will try to entertain myself everytime you complain to me: It stings,



I will hurt you,



Because I love you."

Sometimes love hurts.

Chloe