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My Friend, the Artist
My friend keeps her art to herself,
covering her best work with her dad’s old shirts.
She is careful, precise,
when she draws her straight, red lines.
She slashes through her pale, freckled canvas,
creating ridges where it used to be smooth.
An expert at creating that raw texture,
she is talented, I suppose.
If only she would use a paintbrush
to make her art
instead of a knife.
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Do not try to be pretty. You weren't meant to be pretty; you were meant to burn down the earth and graffiti the sky. Don't let anyone ever simplify you to just "pretty" - Suzanne Rivard