Painter by J.H. (Writing Our Stories)

The lines are a winding tunnel of creativity.

The colors are splashes of light and dark.

The brush is an extension of my hand to use as I

please. My mess is a consequence of my

accomplishment.

My canvass is a bucket I fill with my thoughts and feelings.

My art is a blindfold that temporarily blinds

me

from my depression and my anger.

I'm a superhero that hides my identity.

My art is my superpower.

My art is the love of my life that I will never let go of.

My art is me. I am my art.