A poem I wrote and my new Painting!
You weren't the cure,
you were the Ailment.
A mutiny of my own body.
Scarcely deemed symptoms
reflected in your smitten eyes, quite often.
I concealed them,
with the benefit of the bittersweet doubts.
I who reads through the slip of pen
I redeemed you in a self-destructive rampage.
Now you may be in a place far far away ...
(At least in my mind)
You are rotten-ing six-feets under
in a dreamy landscape.
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