Painting again

Seems like 

For the longest time

My palette knew no light

Blacks, grays

Burgundy 

Colors of the shadow 

A somber still life

The gray just made me sallow

The black? 

Well, it was like your heart 

The burgundy was the scabbing 

From a thousand pricks and hurts

What kind of muse 

Is disappointment?

Born from your depression 

Your deceit 

This was not the art 

My heart desired

Dried up 

Frozen brush 

Scratches on

A barren space 

So I threw back the curtains 

Saw the lies 

Tossed that ruined canvas 

In the trash

My easel is long overdue 

For a glow-up 

Throwing out the old

Filling the palette 

With what feels true

Yellow, orange, green 

And blue 

Have replaced 

Dark shades of you

Wild is the line of happy 

Creating shape

With possibilities

Broad strokes of yellow 

Ignite my joy 

My brush awash 

In orange and green

I come alive

And blue? Yes 

Now that’s the color 

Of his eyes