she is fascinated
by the human body–
the insides, the parts
you never see,
unless you specialize
in ripping apart flesh
to find the muscles

she sketches beating hearts
& working organs.
does she know how she worships
the struggle to live?

she draws lines,
effortless shapes,
over paper, over skin
that is her own, but sometimes
she does not believe it is.

allowing ink to seep in,
allowing her existence,
that thread of vibrant, aura-like


to ebb from her fingertips
& onto the colors she spills
on the canvas.

she labels her art
as her pain, her expression
& yet, it is her joy,
her healing


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