I also like to draw. I'm not so good at that.
My best work tends to come out of the panicky scribbles I pen during classes.
My anxiety takes the shape of peacocks, trees and other curly figures.
Today I sat down and tried to make something visually adequate. I probably failed.
But here is a new picture to go with some old words.
Child's Play
They were one.
Selected from a page.
Carefully con tor t ed
Folded
Along sharp lines
manIPuLated
For the desired effect
Held
Awaiting the progression
A touch.
The stinging caress
Of stainless
steel blades
Dissecting layers
Reshaping and reforming
Now drawn out
Arranged
in
lines
by
circumstance
Fused hands holding to the whole
They once possessed
Adorned with dabs of colour
Deemed ‘right’
Pinned against a wall
Painted hearts
Oozing
Down
The print
Lonely paper dolls
Finished with
Forgotten
