14. you made me an artist
I thought it was strange.
The way you liked watching me.
But went dark when I looked at you.
You felt like the whole crowd to me.
And I, your little mona lisa.
Another art piece up for your debate.
You couldn’t concieve I was your best idea.
It wasn’t nice, the way you glared
with your cruel cool eyes.
Searching for a soft spot to strike.
Somewhere fleshy and no bones.
You never pulled the trigger.
Then clapped for me.
Like seeing my face lose color
was your favorite part of my show.
You finished me off then
handed me the brush.
You said it was my turn to lead.
You said I was taught enough.
Contorting my body for you,
I sat there for hours.
Waiting for you to come.