Fat Ugly Lies

Chapter 16

I spent most of that night,
Painting my heart out,
Watching as my soul travelled through my right arm,
Through my right hand,
Into my paintbrush,
And onto my canvas.

I was using watercolours.
Though I enjoyed many other forms of paint,
Acrylic, oil, poster paint
Watercolour was undoubtedly my favourite.

I loved how you could be free with it,
You place a dot of colour and it spreads,
Into a shape I choose to have no control over,
I never plan anything,
I let the brush do as it will.

And the majority of the time,
It doesn't fail me,
Other times, the paper ends up doing that weird thing,
You know, where it starts peeling off and the texture goes horribly wrong?
Yeah it does that.

The painting took me at least 3 hours,
And slowly I could feel my eyes struggling,
To stay awake,
To stay in reality,
Slipping in and out of consciousness.

I couldn't be bothered to tidy up,
Not tonight,
Hopefully my mother will forgive me,
Or if I'm lucky, she won't even come in to my room in the morning,

Giving me amole enough time to clean up my room,
But for now I wanted sleep,
I wanted to be engulfed by the embrace of my bed,
As it welcomes me into a deep slumber.

I love my bed,
It's like my only true friend,
Besides my pillow of course,
But they come as a package deal,
My bed has had to deal with the heavy burden of having me sleep on it,
'Heavy' meant in both a physical and metaphorical manner.

My arms and legs were spread out,
Signifying my exhaustion,
It probably,
In fact more than certainly,
Looked as if I'd been squashed with a fly swatter,
Or as if I were roadkill.

But the great thing about my bedroom is that,
When I'm there no one can judge me,
I can be as me as I possibly want to be,
And no one has to know or witness it.
They don't have to.
But they would if they could.
It would make great internet footage.

I could become a walking talking meme,
Screw laughing stock of the school,
I could be the laughing stock of the world.