three photographs.

“There is nothing wrong in deriving your work from someone else’s life.”

He told her, and paused.

The fresh rays were entering the room draped with dark velvet cloth that blended in with the furniture, but not for long. Each deflection exposed a corner, and the lines on his forehead.

To call out someone isn’t forgiving, but to honestly critique someone is even worse.

His dark, wavy hair took the spotlight while his surroundings were busy absorbing the nature’s glimmer.

He looked away from her, his eyes half closed focused on the wooden floor. The crouched back gave his tie some freedom to breathe over his immaculate blue shirt. She could sense the room getting brighter, but her eyes weren’t ready for it, yet. What could she possibly do more to express herself in her art, even if her creation was an extension of someone else’s life?

He looked towards the window and let out the smoke he’d been holding back. It threw the light of its path and distracted the peace of the velvet drapes.

“You’re starting out.”

He pointed his cigarette at her. There was an amiable smile between his thick mustache and beard.

“Your friend who you are borrowing from is good with colors, but if you want to master the lines, study Picasso.”

She was still looking at him when her lips opened up a little bit, to pour out a critique of their own, but she ended up looking away.

you’re stepping on the ground.

every day i come home
and find myself
trying to stare through
those black + white walls
hoping to rent some colors
and moving thoughts
however mindless
they might seem
it’s better than
standing together
with no wishes or dreams

and then your face
slowly walks over
into my eyes
their lies fade away
into the colored canvas
of a dusky sky

but soon as a blink
i breathe in
and your eyes are gone
leaving my smile
halfway along
the way
where wishes and dreams
stay

and i see a cracked
faint voice over my ears
lingering around
“hey, you need to
keep walking
you’re stepping on the ground.”

high and low.

five words that’s all you said
followed by five more
but never ever
you picked up your phone
and followed five more words
but nothing more

and now it’s late
in the dark
and the moon is nowhere
where it should be tonight
the black is taking over
the light
of your eyes

so darling
let’s not run away
to where we can’t make roads
you stay where you at
and i’ll be gone
soon as i get a little low.

do not.

do not stand for me and wait
i won’t be there. it ain’t my trait.
i’ll be gone before you even know
along with gushing winds over the snow
i am the blinding light of your blues
i am the rain of a thousand hues
do not stand there and act shocked
you listened as well but never walked
when the stars drown you every night
i am the sailor of their guiding light
do not stand for me and try
i am not there. i did not die.

Black or white

It’s either black or white.

If you’re in the grey area to begin with, you’ve already lost.