

CanvasCANVASCanvas
In the beginning we were pictures in a child’s coloring book, Waiting for tiny hands to discover the border lines and
Not stay inside them, Uniting blacks and whites and blues, yellows, reds, greens; A Crayola montage blends
Intrepidly
Across your soul, And mine. “Who will finish me?” I asked you, Once, while pressing my cheek into the crook of your neck And hoping that the colors would not bleed, Or maybe that they would. “There is a large white gap somewhere near the bottom of my stomach That someone forgot abou


I Am a RoseI am a rose, and I’m a failure at it. My bloom is not delightfully vibrant. My petals do not smell lovely and ripe. I shatter under any fluorescent light.I Am a Rose
I am here, but I am invisible as well. I am a part of an over spoken tale. People see through my clear shape. A rose not beautiful is now clichéd.
I do no one any good, for I’m not helpful. I cannot decorate, for I’m not beautiful. I have no way to make something of myself so I sit and rot on this desolate shelf..
I am alone and it will be like this forever. I’m one piece of trash that is no o
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<3, Cee
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This is here because I have nothing better to do
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Some people are a lot like Slinkies - They're not really good for anything, but they still bring a smile to your face when you push them down a flight of stairs.
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