thoughtsgather

Where’d that girl go?
She wore bright blues and greens.
Perhaps her voices were quiet, but in her image and style she spoke volumes.

She said “this is me!”
She need not shout her truth as she walked it in quiet rebellion.

“This is me!”

She cared not if she fit in. She wore and walked her truth, daring others to tell her otherwise.

Now. She speaks her truth more, but wears and walks her truth less. She misses that 16 year old. That 16 year old who walked her truth in quiet rebellion.

The walls are bare and white,
But they should be blues and yellows and maybe even some reds
Afraid.
Of colour. I fear brightness, but crave it.

What
What if I splashed yellows and greens on the cupboards
What
What if the drops fell on the floor.
What
What if messiness invaded my life.

The whites would fade…
…yellows and oranges
And even greens and blues

They would invade my being
Take over and tell me.

No, more whites.

No, more.

She danced Naked in the moonlight
Begging the beams to transport her
Spinning in gracious cirlces
She forgot herself
She forgot her fears and hates
Lost
She spun
Her body bathed in the light
Transfixed
Transported to a place of freedom
Where despair dissipated into the fine and finite molecules
Of the light
Darkness tried to creep in around her
But her arms sang in the crevices
Of possibility of the sacred
She allowed only the light

Crazy.
She was not.
Full of future glances
And freedom.

She felt compelled to put pastels and paint to canvas. Yet, she knew she wasn’t an artist. She had tried in the past and jumbles appeared, blotches of colour. It just looked messy.

Maybe she needed some more messy in her life. And so she painted…