The Painting

I saw your painting,

and it spoke only

of your love for me.


You painted the most beautiful scenery

with all my favorite colours.

The paint dripped slowly,

settling into shades

that felt like they had always belonged to me.


The mountains stood tall,

Speaking of my ambition.

The river flowed gently,

like the softness I hide within myself.

Flowers swayed in the quiet breeze,

fragile and tender,

like the delicate parts of me

you somehow have learned to hold with care.


My destiny is entwined with yours,

like two rivers

meeting without resistance.

You could see and listen

to the things

I could never speak about.

You became my mirror

who saw my pain

and reflected happiness instead.






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