Unexpected

When I awoke

my eyes set gaze

upon a canvas

stained with ink and memory,

coated with hints of rebellion.

It was quiet.

Not a single audible distraction

to obstruct attention

as normality slipped from sight

both failure and self-hatred,

domestic scents

that linger in my town,

withdrew their stranglehold.

This framed creation.

More angelic than the Sun setting on a brisk

Autumn night.

A painting more alluring

than anything Monet's brush

laid on paper.

Feeling returns to numb fingertips.

You may not see me-

but I hope you do.