(Untitled)

When it's dark and quiet and I'm wake
Or when it's a sunny day and I'm alone
I break down the barriers between you and I
And give myself the freedom to think and wonder

And then I see your skin, like yellowed porcelain
And feel its warmth against me
And those sketches that turned your skin into a canvas
And those crisscrossing lines that scarred your arms

Then comes the flood of red
The way you would have bled
When you drew those lines
Carved them into your skin

And I worry about you, even though I need not
You are no longer the artist you once were
But I can't help wondering if you'll ever
Choose art on skin over words on paper

But darling if you ever feel the need
To see dark red rivulets cut through smooth terrain
Remember that you are so much more
Than the scars that cover your pale arms.