The destruction of me

Creating a blank canvas from a riot of colours is my dream
Painters; create worlds. I want to destroy them.
Make new out of old; disable change.

Strike fear in me, cripple me so I can’t.
And find new weaknesses, have me on my knees
Take all my vulnerabilities and wear them as medals on your proud chest

Making little out of much
Ending anything that is good, to the point of no return; or just before that.
And penultimate is my favourite word today, helplessness my favourite feeling.

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