A blank easle is where you begin,
Stories splattering your life
Air brush themselves to your persona.

(Be careful of the wet paint)
I'll rub off on you.

Sometimes lifes just like a painting,
You can change yourself;
Paint over things and start off new
(But the old things will forever show through)
But I realized in the past,
That just isn’t you.

You bejeweled my life
in places I never thought would exist.
Brushstroke by brushstroke
I became who you wanted me to be.

Coloring my personality
Your actions were like crayons
and I, your picture book.

And thats all fine by me,

As long as I can turn the page and begin again.



I'm a delicate form of art,

The only form with life

(even if it is artifical)



Pictures hanging in the hall

Those staring eyes make me feel so small

(Maybe I am...)