Each one is a process.
It’s a battle I conquered.
Playing with colours.
As I kept moving forward.
Sometimes words say less.
Sometimes paint says more.
Sometimes words flow freely.
Sometimes paint is my outpour.
Sometimes words are just too tough.
Sometimes rhyme and colour is enough.
I went to see a psychologist today.
On the way I practised what to say.
But as I sat in the psychology chair.
I found that those words hadn’t followed me there.