Paintover

Strings pull in opposing directions
Threaten to tighten their hold
Every step stitches them deeper
Binding me fast to the mold
I’m scared to split down the middle
‘Stop exaggerating’ I am told

Afraid a single mistake shatters
And leaves me alone in the cold
A crevasse this deep is not born overnight
Wasteland of dreams longing to fly
Brush strokes I no longer recognize
Hide broken foundations of you and I