b r u s h s t r o k e s

I'm not particularly gifted
When I paint it is not for anyone
not even for myself
It is to busy my hands and eyes
from the things going on outside
and inside my mind
I don't bother mastering techniques
I don't trouble myself with perfection
It is purely for expression
that I create
The need to communicate
things that I cannot find the words
or courage or person or moment
to say
Yesterday I painted non-stop
from waking to sleeping
I painted my salvation
in tones of blue and black 
and fuchsia, yellow and green
I painted lovers and people 
all by themselves
I painted lines and dashes and
strokes
I painted until I exhausted my arms
and my eyes began to droop
And then I let myself off of the hook
I laid my head on the pillow
and when I closed my eyes
it wasn't you any longer
that I saw
but brush strokes
filling the space
between the darkness
of my lids