Piter, patter, zipper, zapper,

Tear my wrapper,

Inflict my wounds,

Design my roots,

I committed the unthinkable truth,

A canvas brown and lined,

Filled with my designs,

Holes and lines to my delight,

A master piece of my desire,

Green and Blue,

Black is true,

For all I see is you,

In the dark,

With your stick,

As I hold my tool,

Committed to this piece,

I do as the voice speaks,

Cut, and look; look and cut,

Till all is true and through,

Light and dark,

Brown and black,

Make a little track,

Pores that see my soul,

Hairs that stares,

Wipe my tears,

I see a little red,

To tell the truth,

It looks so cool,

It is so cruel,

For it stings at first,

Then it turns blue,

It's better than what I felt, 

A little worst than normal,

But I disrupted that pain,

With an almost equivalent one,

Why do you ask?

Don't I look sane,

As sane as I can be,

I just needed to feel,

What true love really means.

Zipper zapper cut the ropes clean,

Green I saw, I will see no more,

Lies that fill my home,

Pretty this, shinny that,

Give me a proper excuse, 

Just why when they are coming,

All illegalities have cleared the room? Prim and proper, silver and gold,

So shinny but hard to hold, 

I told them once, then twice,

Never again, will my story ever be told, You do nothing to fix my thing,

Than dig a deeper pit,

Then I go right back,

To my same old candle sticks,

Piter, patter, zipper, zapper,

Tear my wrapper,

Inflict my wounds,

Design my roots,

I committed the unthinkable  truth

You see the canvas,

Designed with perfectly thin lines, Brushes through and through,

You are confused,

But you judged and abused,

For that's all you could think to do,

You are just like him,

My poor soul and skin, 

Even though you might not understand, It's okay to me,

For all in all,

The canvas was my own plan.