Painter

The first time we met my whole skin red with blushing

The taste and the sound of something from nothing

The freedom and language of our mouths colliding

Years that we had it all wrong

 

Painted nude portraits and broken paintbrushes

Broken down thoughts of your deviline crushes

The sound of you crying when love fell to marshes

Years that we had it all wrong

 

There’s a knoll out there where you’re standing tall

As I walk towards you, and the bagpipes call

And you take my hand, but I’ve dreamt it all

Years that we had it all wrong

 

Tripping on messages, I’ve lost my composure

Memories of you dark like underexposure

Fucked up like dried paint it died without closure

Years that we had it all wrong

 

And your ghost in dreams sees me every week

Makes me go back there, to loving in our sleep

Well I wake up tears splattered on my cheeks

Years that we had it all wrong

alfageeek

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