John Ahee
I painted my imperfections
upon the wrath of your tears
and wished each stroke
could dry into
a classic renaissance piece
embedded into the
contemporary ceiling of all
the existential cares
that had left us
bound
to air-locked philosophies
of what made us lost
in each others eyes
instead of found in our own layers.
I guided my own paths
through the fallacies of your thoughts
and left my essence unattended
to undergo restorative
processes
you could not begin to complete
since your own
was all the more cracked and
stripped than we could ever agree
and our own tools too weak
to begin
a transformation
both of us
desperately needed from within.
Yet foolishly
compounding scanty resources
into an inevitable withdrawal
I threw my expectations over
the whitewashed unevenness of your
halls
and hoped that its abstractions
could find a home
inside this hollowness
we made...
ever so calm
despite the powdery residue
you left clinging to my aching arms.
Though I changed my brushes
uncountable times
in attempts to capture
our true depth,
these uncountable times
created great costs
unaccounted for
in coveted scenarios
where uncountable secrets
were kept
and thus,
we were
left
as we both began…
half restored
half discovered
half ended
half explored
half mended
unfinished works of art
that could not
be completed
unless they acknowledged
they needed the
expertise of
a skilled painter’s hands.
My Inspiration: Midnight
© KohylahPiper 2015
