Putting simple things so eloquently,

Staring at an empty canvas,

So long,

Until you see something there,

It lives, it breathes...

And it screams at you.

So loud,

You must cover your ears.

Looking closer,

You see there's truly nothing there.

Only a corpse.

Shreds of white lace,

Scattered over the body,

Glaring against the red satin...

Yet blending so perfectly with the white-blue face of the one who died.

Wonder if they can hear your heartbeat,

Singing to you from so far above...

Wanting to fix your pain.

But unable to do anything.


The empty canvas is now splattered with blood.