Love and Beauty

Painting for Our Future

You say you can't see a future with me
—and I can't blame you.
I haven't presented you with a visible work of art
. . .let alone a masterpiece.
It's been more than three years now,
And all I've drawn is the outline.
The thing is, I don't know how to paint it,
And I've been too scared to try.
So I stare at the canvas
As the paint drips by my side.

There's a puddle now:
Of pink and blue and yellow
—and all the colors of the rainbow,
But all I see on paper
Is the outline painted in black.
You must see the black, too.
Though, is it all you see?
Not me! I see the world.
I see every color imaginable:
In every shape and shade
(I find it all unfathomable).
So why, then, can't I paint
The future of our lives?

The puddle is like a thick, rainbow of mud,
And it absorbs my feet.
I lift my heels to hear the plop—
Plopping! sound of the paint
(plus, I like the feel),
And, after a while,
I'm plopping my heels: up-down, up-down,
Like I'm climbing imaginary stairs.
In other words: I look like a fool.

I begin tapping the tip of the brush with the
Same finger I say I love you with.
I can feel the sting of the paint,
As it mixes with the blood
Under my thin skin where my nail
Used to be.
The sting doesn't hurt, anymore.
It reminds me life is short,
And I don't want to waste mine scared of painting for you.

When we first met it seemed I had no fears:
I walked, I talked, and acted
Like I was wearing a body suit of armor,
In a battle with no weapons.
Nothing, or no one, could penetrate my heart...
Till I met you.
You saw my armor was fake,
And my heart fragile,
And my soul exposed.

The paint on the brush dries,
So I wet it again--
Green this time;
The same color as your eyes.

You see, when it was me, and no one else,
It was easy to hide my heart.
I wasn't afraid to plaster paint,
Because I didn't care for perfection--
Or even a better painting.
Splotches here,
Line marks there:
In no order; with no symmetry,
And certainly no pattern, just
. . .Paint,
Smeared
Over walls like a kid with a crayon,
And a knack for destruction.

I began to hate it;
I covered it with plaster
So know one would see except for me.
But you saw it, and,
As you peeled away my plastic armor,
You saw underneath,
And you peeled that away, too.

But I wasn't ready for revealing.
I plastered more coats—you peeled 'em.
You peeled and peeled till—at last!
My heart shone through.
Though, the pain you suffered to find it,
is why I struggle to paint our lives.
I failed to paint my life,
So how can I paint for two,
When you're already a masterpiece?

The paint dries.
It's running out and so is time.
If I don't act now I risk a painting which never was.
I dip the brush in light red:
The same color as your cheeks when you're happy or shy.
This is when I realize...
It doesn't matter the color I use,
Or the future I paint.
What matters is I do.
I paint with all I have.
I never stop till I give you all I can give.
And you'll be by my side each step of the way,
To peel off all my mistakes.