Day 28: write a sight poem. My second attempt at writing a sight poem.

Painted truths and beautiful lies unaltered states of psychedelic haze under your influence would have been better than the focused unfiltered splotches thrown; to see everything raw, real, untouched on the canvas of me.

The hurt cut the taut tarp of my heart. The sting healed by the hard whiskey 🥃 poured on the open wounds will take a moment to heal, to regulate my breathing.

I kept that ruined picture of me hidden away from you and your untrained eyes. As a starving artist trying to view what is created on the canvas, looking for a masterpiece of love to see.

By Pamelap


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