I pretend to draw this amazing picture,
Erase any unseen mistakes;
Like lines that don't belong.
Or a smudge in the way.
Admire how it falls in place.
The morbid beauty it beholds,
The graphite lingering down the page;
Simply breath taking, I must say.
But no matter how much I yearn,
I can't show you what I see,
Or get you to feel my pulse as I bleed,
When I envision such a piece.
Because you too are wounded.
Your pain just drenched in a different color;
Leaking through your smile, remaining quiet.
As you paint your own picture, within mine.