Unravelled
Some days I'm sure I'll be unravelled,
That I'm just a piece of thread, Woven from everything I've heard And every book I've ever read.
That someone will find my ending Or a spot where I've worn thin, And they'll pull me right apart Back to the place where I begin. Until they've found that every fiber
Isn't one to call my own, It's from the thoughts and works of others
That I've been so crudely sewn.
And there's nothing I can make Or think or do or be or say,
That isn't someone else Woven in just a different way. Then once I come undone,
Once who I thought I was grows small, What if I look at all that's left And there is nothing there at all?
Digital painting
Personal Style
Size: 7556 * 8556px
DPI : 300
