An Ode to the Heart

Hearts; trapped in rib caged prisons,
are often given out like candy on Halloween,bandaidheart
And are often returned bruised and purple.
Some learn to heal faster than others.
These are the dangerous ones
They  puff out their chests like a peacock
and walk around with the confidence of being invincible,
ready to be broken all over again.
They wear a shield of armour, each one stronger than the one before.
It’s these fixed ones you have to watch out for.
They run in to battle every time, regardless of the consequences.
And there are some hearts,
The ones who desperately try to avoid the super glue and hope
They’re like soldiers who return home from war,
And are asked to go back to fight after a month
They walk around, limping and shivering from PTSD
They don’t always learn to beat the same way again
They only heal once the war is completely over.
Once they know for sure they don’t have to fight another day.
Hearts are brave little things.
Give them room to heal and grow.
Give them a reason to keep beating.
Yours truly,
Painted Shadow



Open Hands

You always wanted more.

You wanted more from my hands

Wanted them to draw constellations on my own back and solve 1000 piece puzzles to put yourself together.

You wanted more from my hands

You wanted them to hold your entire universe and spin it around like a disco ball till it made your head dizzy

You wanted me to trade my trembling hands for something safer

You complained that they tainted your pounding heart

You complained that they held it so tightly, it almost stopped beating

You complained that they weren’t soft enough even after I  plastered it with bubble wrap.

It took me 4 months and 16 days to realise you had already given your heart to someone else for safe keeping.

I was just your convoy.


Yours truly,

Painted Shadow

Pour Toi.

Seeking Inspiration : 
From the smooth curve of your finger tips along the wall of my spine
From the slight giggle that escaped your parted lips and landed on mine
From the warmth of your beating heart nestling in the edges of my smile
From a single Hello or two, and no Goodbye
From your sun kissed skin and blazing eyes
From You.

Yours truly,

Painted Shadow.

Letters to Humans.

Dear Human
I felt that.
I felt that sudden impact of thunder against my ribs
And the shrieking pain that felt like lightning shot through my body
I'm sorry I tried to ask you for food again.
I was just hungry.
Dear Human,
I felt that
I felt the thick chains around my ankles
As they dug in to my skin that is usually built quite thick
But you managed to defy nature
As you draped me in cloth and lights
And made me parade the streets which were surrounded
by noise and fire
and humans and more noise.
I was scared
The drums didn’t stop.
I'm sorry I wanted to run.
I just wanted to taste life again.
Dear Human
I felt that
I felt the pain when you took away my fifth litter.
Before I could feed them from my own breasts
I watched you leave me there again
Closed off and surrounded by rusted metal bars
To rot in my own blood and faeces
I watched you close the door
Until it was time again for your new car.
I'm sorry I got sick and you couldn’t get that car.
Dear Human
I heard that.
I heard the continuous screams and shrieks of terror in the other room.
I can smell it too,
The smell of blood
The smell of my blood.
But it all went quiet
When that noisy machine stopped.
I’m sorry for being there.
Dear Human,
Can you feel me?
Can you feel me on the back of your shoulders and the soles of your feet
As you continue to live
I can.
Can you taste me?
At the back of your throat and the stems of your gut
As I claw my way through to satisfy the pits of your greed
I can.
Can you see me?
Die and writhe in agony
As you slaughter and maim me
Just so you could feel better about yourself?
I can.
Dear Human,
Despite what you believe
I feel pain too.
I feel scared.
I feel love.
I feel gratitude.
Though my language is galaxies different to yours
It doesn’t make me less worthy.
Dear Human,
I was part of God’s creation too.
You weren’t here first.
We were.

Yours truly,
Painted Shadow

Wishful Thinking

I would sing you a song

in 7 different languages

if that meant

you would look up at me just once more.

My fingers would make love

to the piano keys

until it screamed out orgasms in your ear,

if it meant

that I could; not only hear

but watch my name roll off your tongue.

I would place my lips to yours

and drink the sound of my own name

before it started to spill from the edges

of your carefully placed smile,

If that meant

that I belonged to you

for just half a second

on your tongue.

I could breathe

the fumes of that last cigarette

you held between your fingers,

even though I am repulsed by the mere mention of it,

if it meant

that I could feel this way

about someone again.


Yours truly,

Painted Shadow

I’ve Told You Now.

Maybe this is karma
maybe this is nature's way of
holding a big 'Fuck You'  board for me.
So this is most likely karma
for ripping that boy's heart out.
The first boy who showed you love,
The first boy who could have loved you.
One day, you suddenly decided you needed to move on,
and you ripped his heart out the following night
So maybe this is karma
for destroying all that you deserved
for destroying that sweet
innocent heart that wanted nothing more
than to be loved by you.
And you did for a while,
My god, you loved him
with everything you had in you.
But none of it mattered
because you ripped his
fucking heart out.
So the love letters,
and the kisses
and the dried red rose from your first valentines together,
that still sits on your table;
none of those mattered anymore
because you did the one thing you shouldn't have done,
You stuck your hand right in to his chest
and clutched his beating heart around your frozen fist
And you didnt even stop to breathe
or think about it,
You clenched your fist, beating heart and everything
tighter and tighter.
The throbbing beating heart pounded against the concrete walls
of your fingers and palms
trying to break free from this new prison.
That used to be a palace;
A home for this beating pounding warm heart.
Clenched fist and hammering heart,
you pulled your hand right back out
from his quivering body
and you didn't even blink.
You destroyed him
and you didn't even blink.
So, this is your karma
This is how you get to feel
This is your karma.

Drown Myself in You

Write about the lines on my hand, he said.

I smiled back.

I could have written about the sparkle in his eyes

Or the knowledge on his tongue

I could have written how his kiss left my knees weak

I could have written songs

About how his fingers felt

pressed against my thighs

I could have sung melodies

From his soft, careful kisses on my neck

or how the stubble on his cheeks

turned up the heat on my own

I would have written so many things about you.

I would have written on more than just the lines on your fingers

I would have written books about you

But I couldn’t tell you that.



Yours truly,

Painted Shadow