Why I Paint ‘The screen lit up. Its light dancing down the sides of my tear stained face, caressing my cheek with the love you never gave me. Let's make it quick. 1am busy tonight. lsaid. lied. | always lie. You ready? You ask. Routine. Its like a routine With a simple nod of the head, my life forever changed and it’s all because of you. Slowly, one by one, they fall off my shoulders and hit the ground with a thud, [As the last piece of cloth hits the ground, | can tell that was the final nail in my coffin. a9 ‘Your hands touch me without touching me. Your lips find my neck miles away. Your fingers dig into my most precious skin, 1 can't go on. {can’t go on. Once its all said ‘and done I crawl back over and settle into warmth. My white innocence shines no y more for itis instead replaced with purples and blues on the surface with an emply inside. I can’t go on. I can't go on. will be back for more in seven days time. That sentence haunts my dreams, Seven days is all I have to turn me back into white take all I have left and head to the store. This store is now my home for it is where I lie, On the walls are all cans filled with brilliant colors. Colors of rain, hope, despair, hunger, and light. But I know you like white so white I must find. In a comer all alone is a single can of white. Oh the irony. Out the doors with my single can I go. For 1 know I only have seven days. For seven days I paint and paint, For seven days I work and work. For seven ( days cover up the purples and blues. I paint myself white just how you like because { that’s what you said to do, White is what you like and I like you so I will paint myself whiter than ever before Seven days after I found that white can, my screen lights up. Its light dancing down the sides of my tear stained face, caressing my cheek with the love you never ave me, Lets make it quick. ! am busy tonight. 1 said lied, Lalways lie, You ready? You ask. Routine. I’ like a routine. ‘You see my white and you smile. Your smile used to be sweet but now itis ville for | see your true colors. Even though I see the evil I strip down bare and lay myself out for you. Again you touch me without touching me. Again your lips find my neck miles away, and again your fingers dig into my most precious skin. My ail vwte paint washes away at your hands and in its place are purples and blues, This repeats over and over, neverending, never letting go. As much as 1 like to paint over the purples and blues with white, I ean never reach deeper to fill the inside