Watching Paint Dry

by fortytwo6x7

Screen Shot 2015-04-26 at 23.38.49

The paint
is transferred from the pot to the tray
from the tray to the roller
from the roller to the wall
the wall changes from
melancholy maroon
to wonderful white
then lightening lemon
the process is cleansing
the flat is silent
save the noise created by my movements
the process is repetitive
leaving my mind free to wander where it likes

I am taken to forgotten conversations
incidents and actions
decisions I made that were not my own
or made only to appease
or find acceptance
it brings questions
why ?

understanding comes like a chisel
cutting away huge husks of armour
that has wrapped around my core
a wisteria circling vine of protection
that had stifled my growth

like a crumbling icecap
part of me tumbles to the sea
leaving my new face raw and exposed
as the old floats into the distance
I watch it through watery eyes
and ask
who am I

Screen Shot 2015-04-26 at 23.51.29

By
Forty Two
© Forty Two, all rights reserved.
Picture Credit : Forty Two

Author Notes

Approximately two and a half years after escaping abuse, I have been housed. I am now in the process of decorating my new home. In truth I have not used the term “home” for a very long time. The house I lived in with my abuser I referred to as “the house”, my fathers house is “dads”. Soon I will be “home”. I intend to write about the changes after National Poem Writing Month. Work, decorating and a poem a day means that Blog Post must wait, but I look forward to sharing my thoughts with you.

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