watercolour woman

WATERCOLOUR WOMAN

blurring colouring in lines

which confine that version of you

which is all

ambition and confidence

re-drawn as

too much and defiance

painted by a heart yet to be sold

soon darken with handsome burdens to hold

in colours so far from your teenage blues

your words don’t recognise your lilac hues

a watercolour woman, not watered down to entertain

an artist who’s more than her father's last name

painted beyond an audience in mind

an artwork in your own acrylic right

not for those with greedy greying visions

who yearn for poised pastel pictured women

no, you morph with adult amber ambitions

stained with red reckoning convictions

predicted by broken crystal balls borrowed

all reflecting a dozen type of tomorrows

each as divine and dangerous as the next

individually examining the colours they reflect

debating which tomorrow is more alive

and which edition of you will likely survive

and paint her within this critics scene

which has never seemed like your place to be

filled by those who live above the struggle

yet bleed your colours for dollars to haggle

and still you paint, romanticising the past

but not all creation is created to last

and here you hang, insecure and unrefined

a piece far from their muses in mind

with pupils burning and yearning to be someone more

confined by your colourless canvas core

wrapped in oils, concealed chaos beneath

that trembles the texture and shakes the sheets

and may someone see through your painted mask

leaving hearts intoxicated without a flask

and gently grasp your artistic aim

and the ink that bleeds beyond this picture frame

finally conscious to your violet stride

with no need to restring your canvas sides

but darling if your gallery is criticised

and your dark cracks through the paint in sight

reframe your eyes, to the muse you be

critics fear colours they cannot be

and tongues turn sharp to taste jealousy

it’s the price for having your colours seen

so create beyond the pencil marks

hues glow brighter from sleeve stitched hearts

so love, paint now before their shadows cast

there is life to live and colours fade fast

- T