I am drawing lines
on the dark
in silver sparkle markers and fluorescent yellow
crayons, dragging brushes through the stories
that I took too long to tell,
painting I am not
the end of this
all over everything.
I am not, have never been
the pounding heart, the arms and legs
gone numb
have never been the broken parts
the bruises
not the fear, or the locking out
the speeding cars
the screaming in my ears till I went deaf
and dumb
and stupid
I am not a thing made of
your sick and ugly pieces.
I am painting over
everything.
I am sitting in the dark
looking out
drawing all the stories
that I thought I’d never tell.