Painting Of My Heart

I am standing in the darkest room
the chambers in my mind
it is misty and hollow
and terribly hard to find

A paintbrush is gripped in my hand
in the other there is paint of every shade
and before me stands a canvas
there is a painting waiting to be made

I stand there and lick my dry lip
and put the brush to the paper, smooth a gentle line
it is the beginning of the painting
that is only mine

I paint a symbol
and then I smooth on more
the room is getting lighter
like sound creeping from a half open door

Each symbol is someone I love
filling up the empty white space
each symbol reminds me
of their loving face

I fall to my knees
in a terribly sudden pain
a hole is torn out of the canvas
and it doesn't look the same

One of the symbols is gone
there is a missing part
in the intricate painting
of my broken heart

by Summer Song

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Comments (1)

Great buildup, I could feel the wrench of your heart when you realized the missing piece. Great write!