Saturday, December 5, 2015

Runaway Artist

Everyone laughs at me for drawing a rose on your nose with your parents right behind me. They call me crazy for writing poetry on your arms in my dreams. No one believes that I'll ever make it anywhere if I am impulsive and my work is washable. But your chest is perfect for whipped cream portraits and your tongue is the most comforting pen I've ever known. Everyone laughs. They call me crazy. No one believes that I'll ever make it. So just you watch with love on my side and ink in my veins I can do anything.

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