I want to pull you, bend you, mold you
And fit you inside this picture frame
I'll tie you, glue you, hold you
To keep you here until it rots
I want you to stay here with me
I want you to mold me to fit right beside you
Yet how can you do that when your hands are bound?
I won't remove your gag, for it keeps you here with me
Inside this picture frame
This decaying picture of our struggles
What is a picture if not a memory frozen in time
A memory creased down the center and across
I hide behind these creases
You are held down by these imperfections
And I hate it here
Inside this shattered picture frame

I'll move you into a canvas
I want to paint you, change you, draw you
A smile can be sculpted easily
I can paint over our troubles on this canvas
Paint over your hesitation and lost interest
To match my own affection for this beauty
The beauty I used to see in your face
When the paint was hidden in it's tube
When I was hidden behind the canvas
Afraid of the paint washing off and exposing myself to you
Paint with me on this permanent canvas
Yet how can you do that when your hands are drawn?
I won't erase them being I savor their touch
Perhaps I'll paint a picture of us together on this page
A playground for additional faults
I hate it here
Inside this soiled canvas

And I hate us now
Drawn in this fucking nightmare

And I hate what it has become
My desperation as an art form