By Mina Talebi, TIWP Student
Watching the world on repeat
From my chipping, white windowsill
Couldn’t pull the fluttering curtains shut.
Couldn’t change the channel.
Because I couldn’t even stand.
The colors outside were so blindingly bland
That I couldn’t even look at them anymore
The bed was too hard.
The room was too hot.
The time held too still.
The bus went too fast.
The fall came too soon.
The pain was so much.
The world was too broken.
So I made my own.
Constructed from hours of tears
No longer restricted to a life of matrimony to unfair expectations.
I created the wind from violet and green and undertones of something new,
Painted bowls of fruit that were soft under my shaking hands
As I learned to stand,
Using my easel as a crutch.
Caught in the wind
Told I would never dance again.
I said goodbye to the broken world
But not to mine
In my dreams I was walking down the street
Glancing past the shops
Letting my feet drag me
Back to my bus stop.
I never knew my colors could be so
I never knew those colors could say all the things I couldn’t.
Never knew that I wasn’t alive without them.
Never knew they could be everything,
Until I needed them to be.