My love is an impressionist painting,
illusions of light from your eyes
that once held clear blue skies
but have been replaced by bloody sunsets.
You told me you are black
a mixture of all the colors,
an absorption of all the feelings that haunt your head.
I love like van Gogh's sanity,
And you'll wonder if it's hidden under
the layers of paint
I mask myself with,
but I don't hide anything but the truth
I can't hear your heartbeat
not because I don't want to,
but because I don't need to,
it's already encoded in my head,
permanently engraved in my bones.
I love like Jackson Pollock,
too much and not enough
all at the same time.
of my tangled emotions
based off of the way you touch
My love is art
it's not beautiful ,
not made to impress
nor searching for your endless empty approval,
but it'll move the ocean inside your vacant heart
and wake up the thunder in your veins
shaking out the numbness
until your quivering body
feels the electric shock
of the wholeness of this stupid little thing