uninspired&tired
Member
.like a piece of art.
.poetry.
.romantic.
I am an artist
If writing is art
And I've made it mine
We can quibble over the differences another day
Today, we’ll just accept literature as art
And I am an artist
This means I love like an artist
With passions and extremes
So few in-betweens
In a way that rationality is lacking
Even to me
I don’t like or dislike
I love or hate
Loath or crave
Adore or despise
Passion and fervor define me
Just as they control my heart
This reflects in my opinions
Not just of people in my heart
But objects in my life
Thoughts in my mind
And images in my eyes
These extremes color my opinion of myself
Love or hate, no happy medium
Yet, like an artist unsure of their work
My opinion can be swayed by a critic’s opinion
Love or hate can be decided
On the flip of a coin
In the choice of a word
The energy of a touch
You made me into something ugly
Something that no artist took pride in
Shared only in the company of friends
Not a secret, but not a pride
I was a beautiful sketch in your eyes at one point in time
Then your pen slipped while inking
A streak that was as permanent as imperfect
A black mark that wasn’t worth trying to repair
And while mistakes must be made to grow
You made me ashamed once again
And now we aren’t even friends
And you made me something simple
Something I could never imagine being before
A painting made just for a cozy home
Pretty but nothing unique but still so adored
The shore of a lake with clouds reflected
I was the kind of picture you draw no attention to
You place me in your home
Claim me as your own
And cherish me for what I am
You made me imagine contentment
Peace and happiness
But that dream came to an end
You made me out to be a childish doodle
A drawing that made you see potential
Unrefined, unskilled, and ultimately immature
Unintentionally demeaning
You wanted to shape my image
Into something it couldn’t be
But you still saw the beauty in me
Thank you
And you made me the Mona Lisa
Not perfect, not stunning
Certainly not for everybody
But lingering looks and no chance to touch
I was something in a museum
Something you admire from afar
No need to come close or speak
Just shy smiles that created a soft spotlight
Just for me
And you made me gift art
Something personal and sweet
A treasure beyond question
Quality in the air but insignificant
You made me special and beloved
I was crafted close to the heart
And it twisted my heart
Twisted me up
Made me love me
Made me love you
You made me the kind of art that inspires
Pride, joy, and appreciation all at once
An offering love and friendship
You made me poetry
The kind that saved you and me
Getting us through school to adulthood
Love from strangers that became friends
You made me elegant and lovely
You made me love me
And you made me an artistic nude
Beauty bordering on lewd
I wasn’t sure if I was pretty or sexy
Or just filthy
Not when witnessed by you
The camera could capture elegance or eroticism
And the line was crossed
But I couldn’t pick which direction with certainty
And you didn’t make me hate me
But you didn’t make me love me
And you left no doubt
You never really wanted me
And you...you made me a story
The kind of book you return to
Well written characters with flaws and faults
A plot with small holes but a tale you love
Not always are we together
But like magic, you return
Bearing through the troubles with me
You stick by me until the end
You don’t stop turning the pages
Until ‘happily ever after’ is there like a promise
And even if the novel is set aside,
We always come back in time
You made me the kind of story you read to your children later
Just as I will one day speak of you to mine
The first love, the one I shouldn't have let get away
The best one of my life
No fruition to the romance
But an attempt, a confession
And a feeling that will never die
You made me a story
And you made me love me like no body else
I love myself like a piece of art
You, your words and actions
They are the tools
To craft and define me
Make me a masterpiece
Or a mistake
So give and I will take
And I will create
Because I am an artist
.poetry.
.romantic.
I am an artist
If writing is art
And I've made it mine
We can quibble over the differences another day
Today, we’ll just accept literature as art
And I am an artist
This means I love like an artist
With passions and extremes
So few in-betweens
In a way that rationality is lacking
Even to me
I don’t like or dislike
I love or hate
Loath or crave
Adore or despise
Passion and fervor define me
Just as they control my heart
This reflects in my opinions
Not just of people in my heart
But objects in my life
Thoughts in my mind
And images in my eyes
These extremes color my opinion of myself
Love or hate, no happy medium
Yet, like an artist unsure of their work
My opinion can be swayed by a critic’s opinion
Love or hate can be decided
On the flip of a coin
In the choice of a word
The energy of a touch
You made me into something ugly
Something that no artist took pride in
Shared only in the company of friends
Not a secret, but not a pride
I was a beautiful sketch in your eyes at one point in time
Then your pen slipped while inking
A streak that was as permanent as imperfect
A black mark that wasn’t worth trying to repair
And while mistakes must be made to grow
You made me ashamed once again
And now we aren’t even friends
And you made me something simple
Something I could never imagine being before
A painting made just for a cozy home
Pretty but nothing unique but still so adored
The shore of a lake with clouds reflected
I was the kind of picture you draw no attention to
You place me in your home
Claim me as your own
And cherish me for what I am
You made me imagine contentment
Peace and happiness
But that dream came to an end
You made me out to be a childish doodle
A drawing that made you see potential
Unrefined, unskilled, and ultimately immature
Unintentionally demeaning
You wanted to shape my image
Into something it couldn’t be
But you still saw the beauty in me
Thank you
And you made me the Mona Lisa
Not perfect, not stunning
Certainly not for everybody
But lingering looks and no chance to touch
I was something in a museum
Something you admire from afar
No need to come close or speak
Just shy smiles that created a soft spotlight
Just for me
And you made me gift art
Something personal and sweet
A treasure beyond question
Quality in the air but insignificant
You made me special and beloved
I was crafted close to the heart
And it twisted my heart
Twisted me up
Made me love me
Made me love you
You made me the kind of art that inspires
Pride, joy, and appreciation all at once
An offering love and friendship
You made me poetry
The kind that saved you and me
Getting us through school to adulthood
Love from strangers that became friends
You made me elegant and lovely
You made me love me
And you made me an artistic nude
Beauty bordering on lewd
I wasn’t sure if I was pretty or sexy
Or just filthy
Not when witnessed by you
The camera could capture elegance or eroticism
And the line was crossed
But I couldn’t pick which direction with certainty
And you didn’t make me hate me
But you didn’t make me love me
And you left no doubt
You never really wanted me
And you...you made me a story
The kind of book you return to
Well written characters with flaws and faults
A plot with small holes but a tale you love
Not always are we together
But like magic, you return
Bearing through the troubles with me
You stick by me until the end
You don’t stop turning the pages
Until ‘happily ever after’ is there like a promise
And even if the novel is set aside,
We always come back in time
You made me the kind of story you read to your children later
Just as I will one day speak of you to mine
The first love, the one I shouldn't have let get away
The best one of my life
No fruition to the romance
But an attempt, a confession
And a feeling that will never die
You made me a story
And you made me love me like no body else
I love myself like a piece of art
You, your words and actions
They are the tools
To craft and define me
Make me a masterpiece
Or a mistake
So give and I will take
And I will create
Because I am an artist