Every Time

Martin Buxbaum

The ducks sold it for me

Rage

I just think trees are neat

If life is a blank canvas waiting to be painted, I don't have any colours of my own. Every faint pencil line, every stroke of paint be it black or golden was borrowed. Nothing that makes me who I am is truly my own. I am but a collection of everything that has impacted me deeply, some aspects may be beautiful and some tragic. So to everyone who cared enough to look my way, I may have painted the picture but thank you for letting me dip my brush into your paint by spending time with me and creating memories, even though we didn't know it at the time.

hmmm which will it be today, total numbness or emotions so intense they're tearing me apart from the inside