My mind is as blank as a canvas,
Overwhelmed by vague ideas
But even if I had all the right tools in store,
I couldn't help but to think "how, why, and what for?"
I could paint from my heart,
But it might be too vulnerable to be seen
Knowing it could be placed in an art museum,
Where someone might not get what it means
Where there's the execution of people's hearts,
Plastered and spilled, painted figures
The permanent flaws in even the prettiest pictures
And I thought I was told not to share any secrets
Or to share with the world my most treasured pieces
Because it will be prone to hurt and damage,
Conflicting thoughts and opinions


How could you expose yourself like that?
And if you withhold yourself,
People can tell just by looking at what you've made
So there's no way to hide,
Unless I create nothing
Because painting a picture
Is not like looking into a mirror, but an x-ray
Revealing my bones,
Exposing my soul
Whether it's joy or sadness,
Suppressed emotions, madness
Denial, a feint
Or nothing serious to take


So I have to keep reminding myself
Why do I create art?
Because one time I found something,
And when I looked at it,
I felt like it understood me
In a way that no one else can,
And it filled me with wonder


So here I am,
Revealing my bones,
Exposing my soul,
Hoping to find
That I'm not alone