What Saved Me

Art?

More like the Visual Arts

that have saved me from myself,

from society’s corruption,

from the man that traumatized me at age of nine,

from the insecurities that overpower me

And take me down like ocean waves,

in which I paint with the hues of blue and white.

They make my life a series of brush strokes, 

With the colors that represent

Happiness and tragedy.

Yellow shifting into black death,

Helping hands handling my emotions as I vent.

This paint brush 

is glued to me like siamese twins

Inseparable connections,

Channeling thoughts between each other,

Using each other to speak

what life makes us censor,

Using each other to bring down the negativity within ourselves,

Using each other to identify 

us and our world.

Painting,

Sculpting,

Drawing,

Promoting performance with my own body,

are what I use,

What I need,

to overcome obstacles.

They are what I need to succeed.

They are what I need to survive.

They are what I need to live.

They are what I need to thrive.

They are what I use, 

to tell those that ignore me,

“Hey! I exist! Be amused!

And I say yes to open expression,

and no to your normal standards.”

I look at my artwork,

And I see a purpose to live.

I look at the brushwork,

And I find reasons to give myself drive

for more success,

where my soul notices a better version of myself.

A better version

in which I see improvement on life.

I see sanity within insanity,

As I finally find the logic to drop the knife.