I twist open the cap,
And tip the bottle over.
The colorful liquid pours out onto the pallet.
My soft brush
Pushes into the paint
Spreading it around the flat pallet.
The canvas, stretched,
Plain and white,
Ready to be defaced
The first stroke is always The scariest
Breaking the white of the canvas
Removing the silence of the blank surface
Once I start
I can’t stop.
I’m waving my paint brush back and forth,
The strokes come naturally,
Easily
I paint
And paint
Until the painting is finished
I step back
And
I hate it.