“Alone”

The artist had lost everything
Her parents, her friends, and her family
But all was not lost for
She found a way to bring them back –
Weeping tears of crystal
And moving the hands she so despised,
She would keep everyone alive
In her paintings.
No one cared for her,
No one cared that she was alone and young,
And certainly no one cared for her paintings.
But she still did it
Because they were the dim light of her life,
Keeping her –
No, urging her –
Alive, to stay alive.
Today was like all others.
She slowly, painfully
Crawled out of that comfortable bed
And glanced towards her right,
To look for her brushes and paints,
Like always.
And they were gone.
With a flicker of panic,
She began searching
Until that flicker blossomed into
A full-grown wave.
She tore through her house,
Ransacking every object that
She could get her hands on
When she failed,
She next ran out to the muddy streets.
Nothing.
With a shriek of despair,
She clutched her head and
Broke down, sobbing.
People passed
No one stopped or even glanced at her.
She wanted to return to her home,
But she had just destroyed it,
She wanted her parents now,
But she had destroyed that relationship, too,
She wanted her friends to comfort her like they had,
But she had destroyed that as well
And now they were cut off from her,
And her blood siblings?
She had destroyed that coldly and,
Back then without feeling.
She now realized her mistake,
She realized it the moment she ran away
And wished that it would change.
She knew it and couldn’t
And the poor, young teenage artist,
Grubby,
Unkempt,
And broken-hearted,
Couldn’t stop crying because,
Now, she had truly lost everything.