Poem -

Painted Red and Blue

My body, his canvas.
A piece of artwork I stand,Β 
painted
in a gallery of secrecy.

Locked away by bolted doors
I sketch a veil
of liquid smiles,
an artistic trait I adopted.

My body, is his alone.
my skin, is his muse.
A masterpiece only heΒ 
can take pride in.

He strikesΒ 
colours that speakΒ 
of lust and passion
upon this pale surface.

He creates rose petalsΒ 
with bold acrylicΒ 
to blush
my ivory complexion.Β 

Violent spills, Viole-t spillsΒ 
along paper skinΒ 
like water washed ink
with conflicting hues.

This painting screams
with pain of lost love
pleading for recognition
of his expressive talents.

My voiceΒ 
swoons in twisted air ofΒ 
The Starry Night,Β 
lost in silence.

Framed on a wall
my portrait, trapped asΒ 
the girl who couldn’t smile,
hollow eyed and closed lips. Β 

My body, his canvas.
Painted red and blue,
bloody and bruised
by the bristles on his knuckles

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Comments

author
Leight ...

Thank you, I’m overwhelmed with the positive responses I’ve received so far, I’m glad you enjoyed this pieceΒ 

Reply
author
Simon Bromley

Very creative and sad piece! Just in case you're not aware you can like a poem, vote if you think its good enoughΒ  for contest and pin to add to your favourites.Β  I have done all 3! Well done.

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