The heART of Healing

I started with one pencil, dull and grey, To sketch the words i couldnt say. 

Using my art as a shield that i could only wield. Protecting the wounds that i never revealed.

Like a flower with no thorns, my roots were trampled, my petals were torn

It seemed like my body was made of scorns. Without my art i felt so blue,  a version of me that wasnt true.

But rain is a healer, and storms cleared; I found my voice and outgrew my fear.

I saw that my skin, once a source of my shame,

Turned into a canvas for someones elses pain. The pain didnt break me: it showed me the way

to turn someones "dull" into "vibrant" today. So, i put down my pencil-its had its time-

to leave the dull shading and scorns behind. Im picking up color to show i am free,

Splashing the hope that has blossomed in me. From the sting of the past to a healers new mission,

im painting a future with focus a vision.