Your art is not about how many people like you work. Your art is about if your heart likes your work. You should never trade honesty for relatability

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  • acrylic_paint 1h

    Part 2

    There is a shadow that purges my nightlight

    Crawls up my spine causing me to shiver

    Slithers underneath of my toes

    It sometimes controls my eyes

    Glueing them open, when I'd like to keep them shut

    I spring from my bed and it unlocks the window

    Then it hovers nearer to me as I try to escape.

    Violently grabbing me with its skeletal slimy fingers

    Then shoving my limp body out the window.

    As I fall his power over me subsides

    And I screamed with the wind.


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    And I Screamed With the Wind


  • acrylic_paint 1d

    The raindrops burn.
    I try to shelter myself,
    but it's too late.
    My legs scrorched.
    Unable to move.
    The rain spreads and singes.
    There I burn and melt with the flow.

    Instantly I rise from the ashes.
    For even though fire is left with ash, my bones shall not burn.
    For their strength is greater than that of an army of giants.
    Their lifespan aged far more than the ancient tree.
    Their courage exceedingly uncommon, that the proudest knight would be jealous.

    For they've been set ablaze numerous times.
    Now they shine black chared by the enemy.
    Standing up bravely I move forward.


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    Burning Rain


  • acrylic_paint 4d

    Ah Mr Dealth

    Ah.. Mr dealth I've been expecting you today.
    Like everyday I shoo you away.
    But you slither beneath the floor boards where I've placed my feet.
    And whisper nightmares into my ear while asleep.
    You pierce my eyes causing them to cry.
    And try to convince me that I must die.
    But I push you away further and further.
    For there will be no murder.
    You glare at me with knowing.
    But I simply wish you would cease coming.


  • acrylic_paint 5d

    Nevermind world! I dont think you deserve to be changed.
    I've mimicked you, and become you in way.
    But you dont deserve the rope attached to my ankle!
    Can I step back for just a fraction of time without tripping?
    Can I breathe without the pain?
    You dont deserved to be changed!
    Can I repaint society?
    If I changed the world that's what I'd do.
    I'd paint the world indigo violet and blue.
    But yet it doesnt deserve to be changed.
    But the people within it deserve a change.
    So I'll repaint the world one day.
    For the loney
    For the hungry
    For the shameful
    For the broken
    For the abused.
    I'll take a paint brush and try my best.
    For I wish someone would have repainted my world earlier on.
    Yet it never deserved to be changed.

  • acrylic_paint 1w

    Part 1

    There is a cloud above my head obscuring the sunlight.

    It was just a fog a month ago.

    But now it is a dark frigid cloud trailing along after me.

    Its strength magnifies.

    But I stand resistant, bracing myself against its threatening winds.

    I Place my feet firmly into the dirt so that my body refrains from being whisked away.

    But today I firmly grounded my feet unfazed, as it swept into the tiniest aperture underneath my feet,

    gleaning me from the earth.

    All the remaining colors stashed within my brain,

    Locked away from the clouds terrible grasp,

    Came seeping out from my eyes.

    The gray began to spread from my toes to each and every follicle of my hair.

    Wrapping its frigid smoke like features around me,
    the nimbostratus crying its tears, traveled swiftly through the air.

    It took me to the Golden,

    Where it shoved me to the edge.

    As a balanced and fought against it,
    its numerous raindrops blurred my sight.

    I crawled and bled until my strength evaporated with the rain drops.

    And I tripped off the Golden.

    Then my once sewn lips split their thread,

    And I screamed with the wind.


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    And I Screamed with the Wind.


  • acrylic_paint 2w

    I never threw away the flowers in my vase.
    They wilted and died years ago.
    The stench the odor reeks
    And I scrunch up my face.
    I hope that they'll be replaced.
    But I havent been given any since that day.
    The hands who picked those flowers
    now places his flowers in her vase.
    Will there ever be someone to replace the flowers in mine.


  • acrylic_paint 2w

    Stop luring me!
    I detest pricklies because they tear through me.
    But sometimes I willingly get caught among the thicket.
    Because they're just as pretty as the golden corn feilds.
    Just as pretty as the bubbling and glistening of falling waves.
    They tickle my ankles and they become not as painful.
    For the pricklies have now torn through my skin,
    over and over again.
    My skin raw with oozing scars.
    I'm blinded.

    I must find a flower,
    A clover,
    Anything better than the thorn bush.
    But what if I dont want to?


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    They tickle my ankles and become not as painful.
    For the Pricklies have now torn through my skin,over and again.
    My skin raw with oozing scars.
    I'm blinded.

  • acrylic_paint 2w


    Stuck in the tar.
    Everytime time I move my toes they liquidize and sink.
    I come up for air every once in a while.
    But I still advance farther every day into the sludge.
    Some by passers pull me out but I always fall back in.
    No matter how far I run.
    No matter where I am.
    It still pulls me back into its heart.


  • acrylic_paint 2w

    As years go by, the theads in a quilt tear little by little.
    But mine is completely threadbare.
    Yet I haven't accommodated this earth long enough for mine to age.
    It just seems to unravel quicker than most.
    Slithering out of the matieral
    Separating away from the other material it used to be attached to.
    The material that prevented it from falling apart.
    The rest of it is taken from my once warm hands.
    Pulled around until the rements of it can no longer be salvaged.
    Then tossed into the fire as I watch the horrible scene blurred with tears.
    Then I shiver with emptiness.
    The fire dies
    My fingers freeze


  • acrylic_paint 4w

    Turn off the world

    The drain pulls away the light.
    The light of day.
    But the sun will not subside
    For you plug the darkness
    So I can smile from the bright
    You can open the locks
    You can shine the sunshine towards me.
    The wounds that are bleeding
    Will dry up because of you.
    Turn off the world
    Turn off the world
    And these broken shoulders shall sprout wings
    Now I'm free
    Freedom what a beautiful thing.