fiona harrison

sickening watercolors

i slosh my paintbrush in the cup of
red paint , i draw read oval on the canvas.
dip the soft silky brush into the green mushy
liquid, and green splash across the paper.
yellow came next, rays of sunlight shoot out
at me like a 3D of happiness. black darkened
the canvas but something about that darkness
sparked the canvas, the blackness was opaque
against the canvas.
hidden in the shadows beneath my
sister. but the pixie dust prevailed, she always
bragged about being dad's favorite. he never pushed
her into something she didn't want to do. i have troubles
of my own, too.

one morning i just woke up and started to
clip my hair away with the scissors . maybe
i was going crazy, like my sister said. she walked
her eyes was iridescent like the wings of a butterfly
in the bathroom light. she was angry at me, i could tell.
she grab the scissors out of my hand like she wanted to stab into
my heart, giving me the satisfaction of being dead.
i cowered back to the sink, my fingertips touching my
soft brown hair.

she stopped in her tracks and dropped the scissors,
her face was still blazing red. you're the reason why mom left us
she murmured as she left the bathroom. i never told that she nearly
took my life away. even though i desperately wanted her to.