I drew miniature
Flowers on my wrists
Closed my eyes
And really pretended
My skin was still a garden
Of lilac pools and
Raindrops blooming from
Vines entangling my soul

I drew faded blue
Piano keys impossible
To play unless your
Fingers became paper
Butterflies and gently
Kissed the palm of
My clenched fists hiding
Melodies from this
Untalented musician

I drew never-ending
Roses with bloody
Thorns tearing deeper
Into my skin with
Every brush of warmth
Fingers drifting into
Spaces between mine
Creating a bittersweet
Laugh to escape my mouth
Almost enjoying pain like you do

My body is finally drenched
In colorful inventions
Plaguing my flesh and digging
Into my bones like a new
Brand of poison drifting
Down my blood stream
Gracefully timing my death into
Seconds while black puzzle
Pieces cover my arms a
Chaotic confusion I can't remember
When I drew all these pictures

My second grade art has
Turned into an obsession

I'm suddenly scrubbing at
My gritty raw knuckles
Removing what once I
Only lived to embrace.