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.