A blank canvas.
An IV runs
from my arm
into the colors.
I don’t remember
connecting it.
The strokes pulse
over drops of water.
Messy.
Uneven.
Raw.
I keep brushing
until the only mess
left is me.
Beautiful.
I put it next to the others,
and hope it's the last.
Matthew McNally is a poet based in southern Maine. His work explores trauma, emotional survival, and the way pain becomes language.