It's time to paint.
You pick up your paintbrush
Painting a deep
Crimson
Red.
The paint mixes with your tears.
Your pain,
Your grief
Until you go
Numb.

You paint in secret.
No one understands.
No one sees.
No one bothers to.

But...
I see.
I can see
Your tainted canvas
Your paint,
Your tears.
I can see
And feel
Your pain
And I'm truly
   Truly
       Sorry.
I hug you,
And kiss the canvas.
And toss the paintbrush
Away.
You don't need this.
You don't want this.
But you want an escape.
An escape from it all.

So you paint.
Or...you used to.