Nivvy's Story Buffet

  My pain is what I paint, My pain is my muse that cries it's tears onto the canvas, Fear is what breeds in me, Its grows its vines, looping round my very heart, My fury is what I become, The rage that lights the flame, I spread throughout, But at least, At Least with all of this, I have something to keep for myself, I can live with this if it means i'll create, If it means my murals will meet with fate and my destiny will become my desired hopes, At Least I can live with myself without wishing to be someone else, My pain is my uniqueness, yours is your weakness.

  Bound by war, I stay stagnant, I stay prisoner to the dark edges of my mind, Withered poppies, painted a red that bleeds, My heart now ice, Void of joy, brimming with agony, My tempest of torment, I am woven shut, I have been killed, But groped of the joy of not feeling,

As she drowned in the unforgiving sunlight, She ran to the moon, Her orbs turned jet, Yet she spoke through the bleak, Blinded by the purity, By confinement, She spoke in colour once more, But who sees joy for another as joy for themselves? Burn her at the stake once more, Paint her grey

How do you live without dying a little? How do you burn to walk the world without ignorance of its life? How do you act limitless without facing adversity? To walk through life without struggle it pitiful, It is to marry fear, To slash one's throat and quench the thirst of Phobos with your blood, It is to weave your neck with his tongue, It's entwining it with the serpentine coils of apprehension, It is to live colourless, Living is impossible to those who prefer simply existing

And I stayed up till the stars dissipated, Till they go into deep slumber, I waited, wide awake sitting by the edge of the bricked wall, Looking into the desolate land before me, I accompanied the moon through its daily rounds, As it stared upon each individual to assure the sun did not cause much trouble, Nobody seemed to greet the moon like it greeted the sun, They were dormant by that hour, So I thought,  Who? Who will keep this perceivable angel company as it feasts its eye on god's most wretched creature, Too self-conscious to allow her full self to be shown to the public eye, But who would stay awake to see this enchantress, She's too absorbed with the uninterested us humans have for one another, to the point she cannot bring herself to retire She's beautiful isn't she? Who will keep my Luna company? Who will be there when she comes back for us, Who will praise her for her competence? For appearing despite the eclipse, the rain, the darkness, For arriving despite ...

In the form of tears the demons will scream, The ones that linger down the back, Encapsulated within, Who has the right to reflect upon me, A shard of glass plastered on the wall, adorning me with brutality, Why do I kill myself for glancing back once more, Why is the shock of dishonourment still thriving within? Let my leaves retain through the toughest of winters so I can be blessed with realisation, Let it follow along, closely within my reflection, Oh, grace me with a revelation, Perhaps forgiveness isn't necessary, No sin has been committed, no sin that I intended, Pass me a petal from the bouquet of daffodils,  Endow me with something I lack, But I all im asking are just words, If all im wishing are just yells to the stars, If I am denied my pleas Then I will wait and hope for a moment longer, just incase I surrender  

T he change is prominent. In her stance she is tall like the steppes of hurt, In her voice dripping with revolution as if the world will bow down at her command, In her touch she grips with pride and no remorse, stating what is hers and what is mine In her eyes she is the same, And that is the only part of her I will be able to retrieve for she will not return  The girl who convinced me there were stars in the day, The girl who shaped her life by the clouds, The girl whose moods changes by the colours of sunset She has left without me, She has woken from her everlasting eternal dream, She has left me by her bedside