Moments

I am spending the night with you;
watching as you draw.
A canvas of my soul.
So dark and pretty;
a striking red leeching onto the hands,
skin pale white and eyes that lost their glow.
It resembles me indeed.

Scary, yet mesmerizing .
Your art always had
some mysterious charm to it.
I always admired it,
even though I hated
every other aspect of you.

For those few moments I watch you draw.
I don't entirely loathe you,
and I know you feel the same.
Since I am the only one that can understand your art.

For just a few moments.
I felt like the artist I always wanted to be.
Drawing lines with my own blood.
Creating my "Farewell" to the world,
and leaving behind a sight to behold.