Picasso

I want to paint pictures
I want you to see the images behind these words so the pain hits ya

I want you to see a six year old, skinny little boy with nothing but innocence in his chest
Now I want you to see the college stoner who can roll a barely smokable blunt at best

I want you to see the colors I’ve seen
The callous black skin of my father
The love he has is tinted by a jealous green

I want you to see the addict that shares my body
See his withdrawals and his rampage
See how he fell in love at much too young an age

See him scratch at my heart begging me to allow her in
But I know it’s my sin

My anguish

Sure, we can love but do we understand it?
We cause pain because we can’t stand it.

Therefore, the kids call love pain nowadays
And all the pretty ones are rushed away

I want you to see why I want to chase.

To see the agony in my face
The denial of my fate

The longing for an answer
Is love a gift? Or a cancer?

I wish I could draw.