(no subject)
some terrifying silence seeping into
sinking through clothes
sticky, clinging to skin
skin a little too yellow
a little too dull
perhaps a little too cold
was there life here before?
once upon a time...
the questions weren't left unanswered
breath was never wasted
meek and slick, slow to move
quick to fall apart
slightly conformed, contours deformed
her voice seems detached
far away like a record
a slowly moving, spinning record
no one noticed
no one cared to breathe
to let the stinking silence from their lungs
to pretend
to be alive
I believe I posted that poem a while ago. I decided to create an image to go with it. Here's the progress thus far.
Paint can present to show size. That's a typical paint can. The painting is 6 foot by 3 foot.
I love that last picture. It makes me happy.
(x-posted on Sub-Vision)
sinking through clothes
sticky, clinging to skin
skin a little too yellow
a little too dull
perhaps a little too cold
was there life here before?
once upon a time...
the questions weren't left unanswered
breath was never wasted
meek and slick, slow to move
quick to fall apart
slightly conformed, contours deformed
her voice seems detached
far away like a record
a slowly moving, spinning record
no one noticed
no one cared to breathe
to let the stinking silence from their lungs
to pretend
to be alive
I believe I posted that poem a while ago. I decided to create an image to go with it. Here's the progress thus far.
Paint can present to show size. That's a typical paint can. The painting is 6 foot by 3 foot.
I love that last picture. It makes me happy.
(x-posted on Sub-Vision)