Perhaps I so like the idea of an art thief

Because the idea of needing something so bad

Needing something so beautiful so bad

That you're willing to put your freedom

On the line, that is beautiful

-

Perhaps that is why artists are drawn to me

I am a blank canvas and they wield razors

Shaving my skin until the veins weep,

Until my flesh lays on the floor like abandoned strands of hair.

The fact that red is their only available paint

Does not bother them.

Why should it?

It's exciting, the numerous ways in which red can mean something

So many that they meld into one

Until I am nothing but red.

-

Perhaps this is why criminals are drawn to me

Drenched in red, there is no more room

For another stroke of something new

I am complete in my utter ruin