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Creative Writing



She looks at herself in the mirror,
Filled with flaws she ought to cover.
Creating a façade, masking each flaw;
just to hide her imperfections from others.

Held tight in between her palms,
was a paintbrush she has had forever.
She strokes patterns and lines in quivering qualm,
with a lingering feeling spilling over her.

You see, perfection is what she strives for each day.
Ruining her paintbrush by emptying the colors she owns.
Painting over her unique shades & hues before display,
Concealing in every pigment she has ever known.

Sometimes it feels too heavy,
With all the paint coats she's layered on.
It chips and breaks apart slowly,
Tis' feeling empty, bare, and cold.

But every crack of paint shows her tenacity,
and how hard she tries to put herself together.
Every crack of paint is vulnerability shown truly,
more than an object to criticize for pleasure.

She's an artist in the way she pieces herself back together,
to create something more tenacious and more beautiful than before.
She's an artist in the way everyone but her,
realizes that she is a masterpiece worth so much more.

She sometimes forgets the power she holds,
that the paintbrush is within her reach.
That each stroke she makes is in her control,
And that her brush is what shapes her reality.

- Andrianna Dawn Merced