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You may know me, or you may not, but I garuntee, you don't know me at all. Mouth closed, eyes pencil-lead dull, limbs frozen, I am a paper doll.
Forget who you are
I am an artist.Some people would say that 'artist'is synonymous with 'creator'--I am not a creatOR,I create AND keep on creating.
I will never amount to anything. I will have no role, no impact on this world. Am I significant? The world would go on without me. I will pass from this place and nothing will be changed.
Along with the wind My mind flows As a cool breeze Kisses my cheek And bright, colorful leaves Fill my eyes Such a beautiful sight Within walking meditatiion
1 Hands tied behind her back. Society wants to keep her down, beating her brain with ignorance and burying her in debt. A fury of thick red, yellow, purple and orange brush strokes surrounds
I would paint myself a writer writing in my shoebox apartment, thousands of pages strewn about my room beautiful nonsense covering every single one I'd create stories about sad girls
i taste like skin and cranberry juice my ankles are weak and i have permanent bags under my eyes from where i haven't had a good night's sleep in years my lips are swollen