abortuary femme artichoke you painted a picture, and you made yellow fade to purple, it looked so ugly. i hated it. i hated you. but because i didn't want to hurt, i loved it for a moment. when you asked me what i thought. why do you always paint such ugly thoughts. why is your world so horrible, all the time. stop acting like your hurt. you are more loved than i. than she. than me. you always complain of your sensitvity and sadness. stop aborting your babies and exploiting your soul. maybe you will feel better. take two pills and call me in the morning. you try so hard sometimes. how can you be so weak, and yet so much stronger than me. you are ironic, paradoxical, almost. you a scream and a whisper. your bright yellow sunshine that warms everyone, your laughter, your the black that the painter hides the white of his canvas with. dyslexia is to blame for all your faults. sometimes i just don't believe you, and i find my self ignorining half the things you say. but i have seen you when your eyes have grown red, and when your as happy as a child. i don't think i have even seen you being honest, and that is why i am having this trouble. why am i not comforted. stop playing the victim, because your so great at being the fool. the roles are switched and now i'm gonna leave, sometimes you need to let go, this is me, letting go. let go 030426 what's it to you? who go blather from