Make me over

You want to paint me, reconstruct me into one of your polished pedestals,

You desire to pin me up against your wall because I am a masterpiece,

Your hands slowly carving out my insides,

Painting me blue, green, red..

Planting beautiful flowers on the outside, but inside, like a sepulcher I feel dead,

You carve me out in wood, because you know I can be burnt,

I keep going through the same process,

Because it’s a lesson I haven’t learnt.

Written by

Laurna Guiste


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