Those Paintbrush Women

I think I’m addicted to acting the way,

Behaving the way,

I feel:


No, I never meant to-


No, I never intended to-


didn’t set out to break your heart

I think that it came naturally to me...

Snapping those heart strings it’s what


It’s what I’ve always done best.

Affection is a weapon they say,

Charm is a murderer they say,

The blood you lose during womanhood?

It foreshadows the blood men lose when you kill them.


never thought that-

Nobody ever thinks they’re a killer.

Turns out I always was.

We women are.

Don’t men always refer to our rouge?

Yes, the blood God painted on our mouths, our cheeks...

Took you down day 1 with my paintbrushes,

(They brushed your lips, stained your skin)

Left you for dead day 50 when I inked another man,

(A desolate canvas)

Unarmed by the blood of another,


Stood with my fingers like knives,

Their nails like arrow heads


Don’t know how to touch you without hurting you

Because I can sense those scars are still there

I look at you when I can,

When your face is turned away,


I fear I have the same stare as Medusa

I was taught that my legs were built for my escape,

My fast run,

My threatened exits,

They were wrong.


Seem to only use my legs to part them


Seem to only use my legs to trample your heart

I wish they were only ever taught to walk,

The way boys’ legs are taught to.


◄ Burnt

Fruit In My Fist ►


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Alexandra Parapadakis

Tue 22nd Mar 2016 15:00

Thank you Graham

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Graham Sherwood

Thu 10th Mar 2016 12:45

I like this pair of lines Alexandra

"Affection is a weapon
Charm is a murderer"

Your conversational style in this makes it an easy read. Your message as usual is very direct and open.

The female's wiles are clearly described but I can't decide whether you secretly love or loathe them.

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