artistry

i let every thought thread a weft of yarn, weaving through the warps, a tapestry of us, if i make my arms, the home you seek, if i sway my brush, would i capture thee?, if i hang your scars, in a gallery, as a work of artistry, may i clear your slate and wipe your conscience, lay it on another shelf, i'll be anything you ever ask, i'll take your memories upon myself, if you keep my thoughts and thieve my wisdom, i will find another shell, i don't ever want to be the selfish reason, you don't ever find yourself, i felt every thought claw the strands apart, weaving into knots, a travesty of us, if i stay my arms, and i pull your sleeve, if i snap my brush, would you trust in me?, if i trace your scars, with the broken piece, as a work of artistry, may i clear your slate and wipe your conscience, lay it on another shelf, i'll be anything you ever ask, i'll take your memories upon myself, if you keep my thoughts and thieve my wisdom, i will find another shell, i don't ever want to be the selfish reason, you don't ever find yourself, watching the needle thread through every pore, she told me shading made everything more, beautiful but i don't see it at all, i'm more deranged than before, standing in paints as it pools on the ground, colours of empathy blending with doubt, witnessing everything melting around, until i drown, may i clear your slate and wipe your conscience, lay it on another shelf, i'll be anything you ever ask, i'll take your memories upon myself, if you keep my thoughts and thieve my wisdom, i will find another shell, i don't ever want to be the selfish reason, you don't ever find yourself, may i clear your slate and wipe your conscience, lay it on another shelf, i'll be anything you ever ask, i'll take your memories upon myself, if you keep my thoughts and thieve my wisdom, i will find another shell, i don't ever want to be the selfish reason, you don't ever find yourself