Dancing with Paint

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Religion and Spirituality  |  House: Booksie Classic

Submitted: August 02, 2018

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Submitted: August 02, 2018

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I had painted a picture for myself when I was younger. 

My child is white and she’s dancing. 

The positive test was a jump start to my heart. 

The first ultrasound was a stitch to my wounds. 

I gave up my body to my child. 

 

I asked for her forgiveness many years ago and we have been friends since. 

I painted myself the most beautiful bronze. 

 

My reality is a child as white as paper. 

My child is a ghost. 

 

My heart is a broken record.

Each day it screeches reminding me of my ache

She is painted crimson.

She is not angry but she is hurt,

She has trouble trying to tell the difference.

She has trouble reminding herself that she will heal

She has trouble reminding herself that she does still want to live

She has trouble reminding herself that good things come to those who wait. 

 

 

I tell her, “Things will be okay.” 

I tell her “It is okay to cry but it is not okay to break things.” 

I tell her “You are not broken.” 

 

I tell her, “We will meet our baby again,” 

I remind her, “ our father will take care of her until then.” 

 

I remind myself that I am not the same person I originally painted

 

I no longer am painting myself with torn skin.

I am no longer painting myself black 

 

I am bronze. 

I can be reformed without loosing my strength.

My heart is bleeding red and she is hugging me.

 

My child is not in my arms She is off in the distance.

She is pure

She is white 

and she is always dancing. 

 

I will continue painting. 

I will continue healing.

 

& She will continue dancing 


© Copyright 2018 Elizabeth Blay. All rights reserved.

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