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Can I Be Saved?

Darkness is subjective,
To you, it brings the night sky,
white paint splattered over a black canvas,
Left over residue from a masterpiece of a morning,
To me, it is everything.

The feeling of loneliness suppressed so deep it flattens my lips,
Forcing a perfectly crafted smile,
Don't look at me.

This sensation is no longer a part of my day,
This is my morning coffee, my brunch with my pretentious friends,
And my late night milk and cookies,
My bed time story read by the voices in the back of my mind,
Treating me to a classic novel filled with anguish and pain.

But Then, I see you.

A portrait of a blind mans greatest work,
Curves created by the flick of a paint brush,
Surrealism at its finest.

I know, how you want to save me,
Save me from this poison of a parasite living within me,
My pallet of colours slowly fading into black,
Come Be my canvas,
Let me create a new masterpiece, a life in a picture,
Saved for a moment, in pure heavenly peace.

Come read to me baby, be the voices in the back of my mind,
And I, will be your milk, your cookies,
And you, could be my saviour.
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Submitted by RickyBerry on January 11, 2021

1:02 min read

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    "Can I Be Saved?" Poetry.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2021. Web. 28 Sep. 2021. <https://www.poetry.com/poem/60170/can-i-be-saved?>.

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