The fabricated canvas

There's a boil on my ass and it's eventually given birth
To a baby soiled and unhappy, it's a new puss covered face introduced to this earth
But the relief is grand, like a first walking and fast talking creeper, stalking
So I finish off my bottle of wine, thinking and forgoing, this is all so thought provoking

And then the earth lit up like a new born New Year's Eve
I began to celebrate as the poison exhumed and I began to believe
In the incredible fascination between good and bad
The effervescent quality on who should stay in this world gone mad.

I call them friends but do you know what this poems a test
How good am I angainst a former love interest
Who has been doing well writing poems of positive shit
Let me show you dear reader I'm up for it

The moon eclipses my heart and leaves it bruised but totally intact
My breathlessness is sunshine against a billion grains of sand to distract
A polar cap wriggles free from the mainland and becomes an ice cube in my martini
Taking a billion particles into an ice shelf reason to live in this life and be free.

The seagulls crying in greedy content on sunset depths on each ray so content
And I make passion on the canvas of dusk, no place else to go, the postcards are all sent.
Yet I cried and left this circle in its aftermath
With temptation delivered like the beast in the coal fire warming bath

Screw it my fellow reader , that's all I have, the best of beauty and the after life conclusions
I'm better at writing than she is but it's not all positive psychology, easy words in a cauldron of ready made illusions and confusion
It's time I drew a line under this circumvented, yet illuminated , fabricated canvas, so many more to paint
I'm heading off into the picture throughout the realms I anticipate