The Artist

Brushes. Paint.
Everywhere.
Wet and Dark.
I’m should fear it but I don’t.

Somehow it feels cozy.
There’s no fear in it.
Just me.
And the breathings of my heart.

Another world,
but I am not alone.
There are the paintings
and me.

A place I feel comfort in.
A place that doesn’t let me down.
A place I call
Home.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s