Through the Paintbrush
She can scream through a paintbrush.
It's safer that way.
The frozen blue of cold rejection,
Green poison of jealousy,
Red - oh, God, - RED
The pain,
broken,
raw.
No, I cannot let this out.
RED is a colour of such anger
Such pain -
those memories -
Fight them, close them back in the box.
Push the lid down,
don't let the red seep through.
It destroys, it burns, it scars.
No, never let the red through.
Don't feel the pain.
If the red escapes the screams will never be still.
poem by Diana Thomas
Added by Poetry Lover
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The Lost Child
can’t you see me? I am
can’t you hear me? I am
what am I?
illicit creation
a mistake? an existence?
why am I?
my pack is family
you see us on the street
you avoid us
identity respect
I find no acceptance
I don’t fit
so you give up on me
and I give up on you
turn away
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poem by Diana Thomas
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!