Painting Demons
Late night she becomes a superhero
surrounded by paints and brushes
reaching out to an artist friend
they cut skin together.
Art is where the soul
lives naked.
Words can dance
fool a reader.
In paint, the soul is raw.
Tragedy is thrown on canvas.
Words can’t describe it.
Cutting skin releases
intricate, fragile demons,
filled with desire.
Taunting voices permeate his ink
calling her to the edge.
She needs his art.
She will buy tragedy.
Intricate, fragile demons,
filled with desire.