Painted

My smile must rise each day
With the sun. But when it's
Cloudy, I must paint the
Sunrise, stroke for stroke.

Hide the raindrops, that
Stained the streets
The night before under
The blackened moon.

Some nights, I wonder what the
Stars look like, hidden behind the
Clouds, but most nights I stay
Tucked away, under my umbrella.

In front of the mirror, brush strokes
Create vibrant reds and yellows;
Inside, darkness churns in an
Abyss of haunting gales.

The scars on my wrist have faded
Into the chasm, forgotten by
Everyone except the
Swirling storms.

The rain comes again, washing
Away the colors of day, another
Stormy night crashes around as I
Lift my umbrella once more.