HOW I WOULD PAINT ANXIETY

Two enormous hands

disgustingly shaped 

like sizzling snakes.

The joints are deformed 

and fingernails are pressed

to white, squeezing the brain

with furious anger.

Thick, heavy, and disordered,

black paint bursts out of the head

like lava exploding.

The paint rushes out of the canvas.

Dripping along the edges and 

solidifies, nowhere to go like it’s 

hopeless.

HOW I WOULD PAINT THE BIG LIE

A giant crack in the middle of the canvas. 

A piece of cloth is sewn on top to 

conceal the dark horrible underneath.

Do you see it through the cover?

Do you see the subtle cleft spreading 

from beneath the cloth, 

from the edge of the stitches, 

from every single pore of the canvas?

HOW I WOULD PAINT INFINITY

A transparent canvas

Hardly seen, or discovered;

The edges reaching the boundless front.