Archive No.4: Portraits - The Imitations of Art

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I've fallen for how time has 

Paralyzed me to a trance

In exchange for my talismans

That have paved every path I ran


If I'm no longer a pathological overthinker

Then who am I ? Who am I? 

If I'm no longer the artist with stained fingers

Then who am I? 


I'm buried under wasted pages 

That bleed onto my tainted skin

So deep the scars are beautiful 

Like tie dyed oceans I swim in


If I'm no longer a pathological overthinker

Then who am I ?  Who am I? 

If I'm no longer the artist with stained fingers

Then who am I? 


My beliefs have been corrupted 

By unflattering portraits 

I made them myself because I thought

That's what humility demands 


My lifelong resolutions 

Turn into empty promises 

As I fly closer to the sun because I thought 

That's what soaring demands 


If I'm no longer a pathological overthinker

Then who am I ? Who am I? 

If I'm no longer the artist with stained fingers

Then who am I?


-auctor

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