Blank Canvas [Poetry]

Staring at

the canvas

stripped to the bone

white as gesso –

thalo green

I like to paint thick –

running the brush

up my thigh –

Cold.

Closing my eyes

waiting for inspiration

that doesn’t hit me

like it used to

I grab a tube of

crimson

and smear it over my chest

and face

as I follow my hands

to my head and cry.

What happened all

these years to me?

They are all but faint memories

that appear in words

pictures and

paintings –

I am afraid to

let them go

completely

in fear I will

lose my identity

[didn’t my

misery & pain

mark me as a person?]

Do I deserve all of this

happiness & goodness

I have now encountered?

All I must do is

let all the pain go –

[I do not believe in that kind of

divorce]

I have lived with

this all of my life –

The paint is drying

as the tears begin

their descent again

I am a mess

curled up

naked

on the floor

crying like a baby

afraid

I know now

inside my soul

I am no longer

Alone.

I dip my finger

in the crimson

writing your name

on my heart.

I surrender…