Literature
Splatter
I lost my loneliness today.
I scraped and brushed it
into the paint with blunt force.
It's over there on the canvas
covered with brushstrokes,
and my body aches
with the pain of letting it go,
of throwing it away.
It cried as I spread it thick with paint,
so I turned up my music louder
until its cries were drowned out.
The sorrow crept in,
so I painted more fiercely,
tiptoed and slipping in the wet paint,
drowned the canvas in water
until the harshness faded away.
The loneliness was still there,
but it wasn't mine anymore.