Two Misfits
we were two misfits fitting in with each other in a painting
with watercolors. we bled red onto the canvas,
blue tears leaking from our eyes
we laughingly painted the sky; indigo with our hearts
smiling through the black pain
he demonstrated lyrical reign
and in return, i chose to refrain from fearing him
and his mahogany exterior
so together, we stood, leaving the bench
with cracked paint exposing the wood
he showed me his 'hood
as we walked on aged asphalt
i tripped and he claimed it was his fault
but the love-trip truly began when he sat by my side
whispering yellow sunshiny words into the canals
of my ear,
he possessed a knack for lies i had to decipher like Egyptian hieroglyphics
misguided by this misfit, i chose to walk away from
his soft hugs and if you were to ask me where he’s now,
i’d shrug
pretending he left my memory
but in my museum hangs the painting we painted together
as two misfits..
fitting in with each other.
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