She longed to paint

She longed to paint.
To take a canvas and colour it with hues too bright,
To fill the canvas with light,
With hope,
With the mystery of tomorrow anticipated.
She would paint to the edges..
And beyond,
Striking the board
With big messy brush strokes,
Returning later
To pencil in eye-achingly intricate details.
Each part of her canvas a mess,
An eyesore.
Not art at all.
But viewed from afar,
The canvas she longed to paint,
Would be glorious.

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This entry was posted in Emotions, Mental Health, Recovery and tagged , . Bookmark the permalink.

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