Peeca Mark

the Truth about ART

Crying mouths stretched over canvas
He uses their tears to wet his brush
Cigarettes clutter the floor
espionage on the outskirts of the demon realm?
DOn't make a sound
HUSH!
He'll hear u!
Waiting
Patience, patience
His hand finally pulls out the brush
But not without his protest
Wait..don't.. wait..i'm not ready..
wait, not yet... wait.. no.. wait.. wait!
They scream when it touches the paper
He screams
culminating time with a waking nightmare
He was tired of being misconstrude and confused
He would let it all out!
The canvas moves and swishes
Isis slowly pulls his head from outside the canvas
Arms and legs are painted
blotches of bright color here
A raven there
Hands slowly reach out of the canvas
But he couldn't stop himself
NO! Wait.. i'm not- CHOKE!
The hands were cold
As ruff as gloves
Squeezing
No..
Tighter and tighter
But he keeps painting
The crying mouths start laughing
We fooled you!
We fooled you!
His hand stretches out for help
Veins pulse along his forearms
It's no use
Air bangs on the roof of his lungs
Pleading for help
The canvas laughs
The canvas laughs
The brush drops
His air drops
Dead
And then
He drops