HOME | DD

Description
i've never called myself an artist.
i draw.
i hate painting.
i hate the idea of being an artist
but i cannot fight my love for it.

the colors on open canvas.
since i was young, i've craved a pencil wrapped in my fingers.
if one isn't near, i feel sort of lost.

so i'm really dependent on my hands.

there are scars,
on them.
one is from a staple, from a stairway, one year for thanksgiving.
many other are burns from cooking or smoking.
or just from fire.

my hands are pretty important.
they give me life
and they give me a purpose

but you can have them if you want.

i know that it's not much,
but you are.
you're too much
you're just enough
i don't even understand this. but i understand you. or i think i do. and you understand me, or you think you do.
and i want you
to

i really do.
this is fucking scary though, and i know you feel that too.
and i keep forgetting what you look like
and what you sound like.
so i'm trying really hard to remember

and i've proposed to you nine times.
every time you say yes
yes
yes
yes
yes
but we never actually do it, so i've asked you to run away
and you say
yes
and we never actually do it.
but i would.

i actually would.

and you say i'm heaven, and you say i'm too good and i'm too perfect and i'm too much i'm too much i'm too much
because i am

so i draw for you
i draw for you
i draw you
and you tell me how lucky i am to have such a talent
and i say i'd give it to you
and i would

i actually would

Description
i've never called myself an artist.
i draw.
i hate painting.
i hate the idea of being an artist
but i cannot fight my love for it.

the colors on open canvas.
since i was young, i've craved a pencil wrapped in my fingers.
if one isn't near, i feel sort of lost.

so i'm really dependent on my hands.

there are scars,
on them.
one is from a staple, from a stairway, one year for thanksgiving.
many other are burns from cooking or smoking.
or just from fire.

my hands are pretty important.
they give me life
and they give me a purpose

but you can have them if you want.

i know that it's not much,
but you are.
you're too much
you're just enough
i don't even understand this. but i understand you. or i think i do. and you understand me, or you think you do.
and i want you
to

i really do.
this is fucking scary though, and i know you feel that too.
and i keep forgetting what you look like
and what you sound like.
so i'm trying really hard to remember

and i've proposed to you nine times.
every time you say yes
yes
yes
yes
yes
but we never actually do it, so i've asked you to run away
and you say
yes
and we never actually do it.
but i would.

i actually would.

and you say i'm heaven, and you say i'm too good and i'm too perfect and i'm too much i'm too much i'm too much
because i am

so i draw for you
i draw for you
i draw you
and you tell me how lucky i am to have such a talent
and i say i'd give it to you
and i would

i actually would