One Worded Brushed That Painted Sentences

drip...

blood or red wine onto skin and touched the soul to get it all on canvas before it melts i...

drip...

tears from shattered fantasies and broken images of dead humans living as body snatching demons that invest in crime activity.
simply... creating hyper active cycles with no shape or formation
this aint art...
its constipation of the mind so i had to let it all spew

using needle and thread to sew(sue) your case

this is something lawful

maybe... chocolate covered thoughts made me diabetic to your sugary sweet symphony

mozart swagger-jackers using grand pianos to play a song for you

see him.. simply as can be

a criminal infested maggot eating off of your americanized minds

your like a movie... the bad guys that die in the end...

but relive in the sequel just to...do it again

so she screamed 4 times before he saw her boyfriend jason during halloween he ruptured spleens and turned the mangled into teens beautiful head decapitations and broken bones created a collage of food you ate yesterday being poured onto floors and artful nightmares...

i sometimes think that basquiat overdosed on drugs just to see if he can get so artistic that he would take out a paintbrush and on his will paint gods eyes...

billie couldnt wear these jeans and woman find the ugliest thriller who soothed them by 'knocking them off they feet' and caused cold shivers up they spleen

if only they knew it was they conscience...

but lemme focus on this artsense

you.. have become an artist... simply by gaining inspiration to step on malnourished oxygen so you never breath life... you breathe creativity

i thank the lord that your parents... got painted in gods image as he tossed a different mindset onto you with his own paintbrush mixing and splattering clatterings as the angels begin gatheirng to see what picture he would create next then its on to the next one

so you can use his creativity to paint perfection

this is not a poem... this is me saying to your paintings that if i had the perfect brush...

i would paint your story...
but id rather pocket my hopes and wait... for your own individual glory...

so if u ever been... edgar allen PO sitting in the robert FROST looking loss going WARHOL trying to find your michealANGELo...

never forget your spirit... and the gift you havent unwrapped yet.

you just touching the present... open up and find the paint...then...

brush.


FIN.