Her paintings.

I deeply relate to this poem
i'm a Schizo who started painting
because I was driven by deep anxiety..

"And the people who try to relate  
She fucking hates them"

people can't truly know  
& understand your unique pain
if they haven't heard voices
saw things they rather not
no these people won't get your art
but some will..

deeply powerful write
that evoked strong feelings from me..

love Crim

Thank you so much, it’s a very personal poem but it makes me feel good that I’m not alone. I appreciate your feedback ❤️

thank you for sharing from your soul..

love Crim

"Pyro  
Psycho  
Schizo  
She paints on the old red  
This numbness feeling  
Makes her feel dead  
Silently Watching the paint trickle down  
As she bled"- i imagine you painting on a canvas the size of a bedroom wall, slinging red paint all over and off the canvas like a crazy person...on the pillows,off the plastic.paint to the canvas as words and fuel for fires to set us free like they did ol' Joan of Arc.  

"She would start fires on her skin  
Feeling the sting  
Anxiety at its peak  
A faint smile forming across her face  
A mixture between love and hate  
She Loved the pain  
But Hated that she felt insane  
Hated herself  
No sense of self worth  
Evil thoughts derived from the constant feeling of being hurt  
This overthinking over emotional curse  
Overbears her    
So she started painting  
And that was 7 years ago  
Or was it 8 years ago ? "-  trying anything just to feel again,feel the warmth, the burn,desire for life. i've been awake but i don't know for how long.i'd lie if i said i knew what year it was.wiping crust from my eyes i wake up on a pile of clothes in the corner of my room; i sold the bed for satisfaction ....sleep on that insomnia.sculpt me like clay,draw me like chalk; the brightest blue you can find, i'll find a portrait in your eyes yet.


"She tried to rub the paint away  
But it won't fucking erase  
And the people who try to relate  
She fucking hates them  
She feels cornered as they stare  
The same people who hurt her now  all of the sudden care,  
 They're feeling  guilty and making amends  
Their glare reflecting off her canvas  
But society won't understand  
Her artwork  
They dont understand  
Why she painted it.  
Then she begins to doubt herself  
On why she ever started painting in the first place .."-  lead poisoning from the paint remover no longer i fear.radiant heat or am i just another label,a product warning waiting to expire.
the liars ,two faced feathered friends fly only when its convenient to fall face first i hope this time.
will they look at it upside down,from the easel or with a crown, will they see through the paint the,chemicals and see the girl, with no makeup waiting,screaming to be heard.
the strokes between the bristles brushing,the sound of a garbage truck passing outside,leaves falling from the trees tasting the wind for the first time.
won't you follow me and fix the world one broken window at a time. the yellow  in the piece are starting to blow my mind.the density and pressure under this curve carves away at my insides.

amazing poem Purplekc
i Love what you've painted for me.
for friendly feedback you did a great fucking job.
never stop writing.

You made my day... the way you interpreted my poem, I read it’s entirety with a huge smile across my face. Thank you so much, I mean that ❤️

no problem, keep up the great work.