Chasms

And in my sorrow I draw lines across my body, starting from somewhere, leading to nowhere. Just as my life seems to go every second and every minute, leaving me desolate as I am now. I paint with the tears my wounds cry, red copper for clear salt, and hope to paint a life I'd wish to live. One that could leap from the page and blend into reality and for once I'd be genuinely happy. But I know this simplicity can never be true because I feel fear and dark enfolds. So instead I cry and pinch together with my fingers the chasms in my skin and heart.