Paint brushes scattered on the kitchen table

I dab water colors, blend reds and blues

Nothing I put on paper seems quite right

I turn to a new page and starts again

The voice in my head taunts me,

“You’ll never be good enough.”

“Who do you think you are?”

“Your colors are bleeding into each other.”

I drop the brush, head in my hands

The voices continue.

“Give up while you’re ahead.”

“How desperate for a hobby are you?”

“No wonder you’re sad and alone.”

I can’t stop the words

They hit me in the back of my head

Bullets whizzing by

Landing in my mind

And that’s when it happens.

Tears roll down my cheeks and fall to the page

I wipe my eyes and see

The most beautiful painting I’ve viewed

I sigh,

And put my paint brushes away

For the night.