Flower Dye Painter

Remember when to see me you gathered?

Just born, but my fingers rose pink,

As delicate as what once was madder.

With joy I welcomed my first, painting.

With lilacs and saffrons you taught me what’s life.

Celebrated a child through merry shades of yellow.

And with each mistake you wouldn’t let me cry,

You’d tear it apart, shh, and bury it in your meadow.

On my first medal you brought me lavender.

While you squeezed in the lemon and mint,

You said- be as kind as these petals tender.

So in my naivete I let my parasites win.

You let me believe your art I had mastered.

From oak apples I created an art mine, an art new.

Regal black shone bright, blinded I flustered,

Why, amongst all inventions, are comforting so few?

At my first job you told me with pretty green,

Like nettle, my dear, don't fear to hurt if you gain.

But isn’t my gain is too hurtful for you to see?

I crammed pestle against mortar but was I too late.

The darkness grew and grew, I knew,

I cannot, will not, hear your heart scream.

So I chalked out some ersatz white soon-

Life is all grey if I ignore the rare extremes.

Now red stains the rocky sea cliff edge, I stand,

To see my messy canvas be devoured by blue waves.

Please don’t send me flowers as we planned.

I’m not sure I have it in me a me left to paint.