Friday, April 6, 2012

color chain


With each stroke, I undo
bringing the work closer and closer to completion
Eventually unravel this spell
Yearning for letters and words that never come
The truth rings through the cracks
I mean nothing to you.
I mean nothing to anyone

And I’ve painted this succession so many times before,
unraveled so many others
casting them into the mausoleum where they exist forever 
and yet, yours remains so complex
so, complicated
so twisted it takes everything I have to remember where I am
but the truth rings through the cracks;
I am alone

And each time I spill these colors
Each passing year that slips away
I undo the spells that have held me, find new ones, and undo those
For the first time I grow tired of who I am
I’m sick of what I’ve become
Agnostic to finishing
the paintings that will evacuate your smell from memory
within each ending the inauguration of the same emotions arises
cowardice keeps me from pushing on



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