Both, are escapes.
I write when I need to express
When I am bursting with emotion,
I pick up the pen.

I pick up the brush, to distract.
Don't focus on the tears, no.
Focus on the eyes, lips, cheekbones.

My face is a landscape.
I plant flowers on my lids and lips,
Trim my eyebrows,
Grow my lashes.

A sense of accomplishment, at the end.
In the mirror my beauty shines,
A little more brightly.
I forgot why the tears visited.
My pink lips smile.