Author Information
Blue Paint
I sang you a lullaby
every note lobotomized
as it fell from my lips
it wrote itself
you left me
I couldn’t leave bed
I drew the shades
and wrote on the walls
in languages I didn’t know
in long dead runes
vagrants and valentines
folly and funerals
Long lost loves and lullabies
I sketched it in tears and in sweat and in your expensive fountain pens
I sealed up the work
in baby blue
too bad I got it on my favorite jeans
Digging this one so much.
Digging this one so much. It hits home and it very much describes the sometimes soft yet crushing violence of heartache. Phenomenal write lady!
"It is a terrible thing to be so open. It is as if my heart put on a face and walked into the world" -- Sylvia Plath.