paint on my fingers, paint on my knees.

freeverse while preparing to move, painting walls.

i'm painting over all these faces
black ink on white is so hard to cover-
one coat makes it a shadow
and two makes it a memory.
the faces all have large eyes saucers
even like classic disney.
and the words and phrases scatter flatly
horizontally on the wall.
it was once flat.
but the coats from before, the yellow maybe
brown.
the ready maybe
blue.
my pink and my sky gave it a thick skin.

who's missing their inner city trinity?
mabe i'll put on some 2pac and soak the brush-
soften the bristles til it covers 2 years.
i could have a cigarette between my lips
but i don't smoke inside
i don't smoke anymore-
the carpet would capture it anway,
but anyway the carpet is gone.
it was once new (it knew)
(it could have possibly absorbed my residue)
and it's a wonder
such a wonder-
with all the paint and all my hell-
this carpet still isn't blue.