Pick up the paintbrush and watch

as swirls of color form a picture

for the eyes to see and the mind

to grasp.  A youngin in the grapple

of pre-adult hood but past the stages

of blind acceptance childhood.  A

warrior protecting herself and those

around her, taking it all in before

she knew how to filter out the bits

that stung her so deeply.  A rebel

in mind and body whose ideals

didn’t fit with the cookie cutter crowd

all around her.  A misfit in her own skin,

yearning to be free but knowing she

wasn’t ready for lay beyond the void.

Imaginative soul whose mind could take

her past the country bumpkin lifestyle

and the fear/torment her home life seared

into her flesh.  Raw and uncut, pure and

undiluted, honest and humble, with a dash

of rebelliousness that would set her up

for always questioning “why”.  At fifteen,

she wasn’t a child but not yet a woman,

which created an inner struggle but gave

her great strength to sustain her in the

times before she was free from the physical

harm that would damage her so completely

in years to come.

M. Willcox (photo by M. Willcox)

Day 15 – Fifteen – NaPoWriMo with Magaly Guerrero 2015

I wish I could paint a prettier picture but the life I grew up in

is not the same as the one I live today but the ravages of then

truly created the me that I am now, I was just pure back then,

now I’m one quarter this and a half a cup of that.  I hope this draws

you (the reader) a complete scene by which you can understand me.



8 thoughts on “Undiluted

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