It all feels like a craft of love,
a tight fit in my eyes naked views
A beautiful body of work,
grinding my gears to a halt,
At a place of it being wore out in perfection,
the once new smell, becomes as creased
as my socks.

But even with its imperfections,
the painting still manages to wiggle
its way into my heart, leaving a lasting
impression that I can't shake.

It's like a tapeworm inside of me,
recording every beat of my heart and
every thought in my mind.
I try to pull it out, but it's no use.
The painting has become a part of me,
a part of my soul that I can't let go of.

And even though it brings me pain at times,
I can't help but smile. It's like a silly game
that I can't resist, a game that brings me joy
and laughter even in the darkest of times.
So I'll keep it close to my heart, like a knife in my mouth,
ready to cut open a crack of a smile whenever I need it most.