Why don’t you paint me
Like I am?
Paint me staring out a window, wishing to be free
Where light shines through as happy things
Paint me thinking about life
Thinking about death
Paint me with all the things I suppress
Paint me in a place to keep me warm
Paint me in a beautiful storm
Paint me somewhere safe
Somewhere where I’m not a disgrace
With no more masks on my face
Paint me without my fears
Without any more tears
Paint me without my insecurity’s
Paint me so my scars won’t show.
Paint me with ink on my hands
And fire in my eyes
And tell me, what would you see?
Paint me with passion
Paint me with ease
But most of all paint me as ME.
I wrote this poem as an assignment for my class, but I thought it came out nicely, so here it is.