she is a child that paints with her toes and writes with her elbows.
very much she is a quiet girl lingering in the shadows
uncaring of both attention or dismissal.
her words can shelter you from the cold winter sun and her paintings cry-
her paintings cry in watercolour that spills over the canvas and easel, absorbed by the floor to create marble
but when forced upon a page staring her blank in the face
with her wrists shackled by a pair of determined hands that needs
she withers like a sleepy plant
for she creates not for display or verdict, but for herself
unbound she vomits glitters onto paper
she thrives in the wilderness.