I want you to draw me,

As you see me, where I stand,

Bare in the dark,

And broken in the sun.


I want you to highlight my flaws,

Because, they are a part of me,

And like my nails and my hair,

Like my heart and like my face

They grow.

I want you to change your palette,

To the darker, the sombre,

Not because I'm sad, no,

but because I happy,

And because I know that time will take even that.

I want you to take a knife,

And cut the canvas;

Your sculpture and my soul.

Tear away at the paint,

And claw at the finely painted eyes,


I want you to see me, for who I really am,

Without the paint, without the skin,
I want you to see me cut and bruised,

The kind that paint cannot capture,

The type that lies beneath the skin.