Crude Feelings

March 5, 2008
By
A smoking masterpiece investigates psychedelic experiments.
I am electric purple paint breaking through surreal rhythms.
My nude feelings create a mess for his cold heart.
I know how empty a picture can look.
I am your drug.
But the colors fade after time as does my love for you.
Screaming absurd metaphors, I let a black shard smear my imagination.
My raw canvas cannot feel anymore.





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