primordial16
The world was a canvas, a silent expanse,
Where she painted her feelings, a silent, slow dance.
Her brushstrokes, a whisper, her colors, a cry,
A symphony of emotions, held captive inside.
She drew in the shadows, her heart in her hand,
Fearful to share, a treasure she'd planned.
Each line, a confession, a secret untold,
A hidden language, in colors bold.
She dreamt of a world where her art could be seen,
But the fear of judgment, kept her unseen.
Social anxiety, a heavy weight,
Bound her to silence, sealing her fate.
But one day, a stranger, with eyes kind and bright,
Caught a glimpse of her work, bathed in soft, golden light.
"There's a story here," they said, with a smile,
"One that touches the soul, for a little while."
In the depth of her drawings, the stranger could see,
A hidden message, a world set free.
A glimpse of her heart, in the strokes of her hand,
A story untold, in a land she'd planned.
Slowly, she opened, a hesitant start,
Sharing her world, opening her heart.
The right person found, a kindred soul,
Who saw the beauty, in the art she'd extol.