I was an empty canvas, I had finally started to paint.
At long last I’d found courage to take up the task,
And I did slowly learn to create.
Bit by bit, I shed the scales of fear, but I had only just begun.
A toe, just tipped in the water, years of hiding to be undone.
I might have been so beautiful, but you broke into my place.
And I never can stop asking “what else might have been built within my space?”
And so, a toe pulled back, hiding again in fear.
Burrowing ever so deeper to find some safety, even still, after all these years.
And yes, I am enraged when I let my fear be known
How else should I expect to feel, when my life has never been my own?
You held a fragile piece of what just might have been,
And with a mighty force you shattered it, brought the creation to an end.
And so I stand here, a painting I cannot complete.
At times I want to take up the brush, but my will’s become so weak.
… A brush here, a dab there… still I paint the best I can…
With hope one day this painting can still reveal exactly who I am.
Jul 14, 2016 @ 21:51:09
I love you….
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