Two Misfits

we were two misfits fitting in with each other in a painting with watercolors. we bled red onto the canvas, blue tears leaking from our eyes we laughingly painted the sky; indigo with our hearts smiling through the black pain he demonstrated lyrical reign and in return, i chose to refrain from fearing him and his mahogany exterior so together, we stood, leaving the bench with cracked paint exposing the wood he showed me his 'hood as we walked on aged asphalt i tripped and he claimed it was his fault but the love-trip truly began when he sat by my side whispering yellow sunshiny words into the canals of my ear, he possessed a knack for lies i had to decipher like Egyptian hieroglyphics misguided by this misfit, i chose to walk away from his soft hugs and if you were to ask me where he’s now, i’d shrug pretending he left my memory but in my museum hangs the painting we painted together as two misfits.. fitting in with each other.