twisted and turned-- like the paintbrush to canvas-- unsure of my direction-- my color-- my time-- my space-- my identity-- but life is unsureity. i have love for you but it seems that-- you said that... i never meant to love you-- i can't comprehend the meaning...that's what you said. you said i painted love across the blank canvas of my heart-- brushed strokes, against the grain of my barren atriums-- "yo heart don't pump no over-sweetened kool-aid" that's what you said. but it does. and i do love-- you and everything you entail but you have painted eyes-- brushed strokes with the running water of your tears-- giving up-- makes your palette complete. shegaveuponourloveandididtoo. sean.