Andrea Rigters

There’s something leaking through the cracks in the paint on your ceiling
A dark night with bright shining secrets of feeling

There’s something about the cracks in the paint on your ceiling
Which has me reflect on myself
Being
Laying here and staring and healing

Layers on layers and cracks on cracks
Liquid to solid and scars to match

Discoloring and rotting
Whitened then turned back into something
I swear, there’s something

Metaphorical analysis of worlds that need fixing
Feels like the paint and all of my words mixing
With a wooden stick, pour it,
Paintbrush slick

A new layer on me, looking good
Until it cracks again
And I’ll be laying here, turpentine mood
Staring, staring, until it’s fixed again

Andrea Rigters  2020