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starving artist
February 6, 2022
my hands are cracked and bleeding, with old scars lined with lead
my vision is yellow, still adjusting to life without the blindfold on
my arm burns with the phantom itch of rope
my blood stains the pages, a mark of the starving artist
but it has been 9 months now, and though each day is harder and harder,
still, my stomach reconciles with the unfamiliar state of fulfillment
still, the lead flakes mark by mark,
and still, the dawn comes again and again
© Lennon H., Ladera Ranch, California
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