My Pencil Is My Paintbrush Poem by Lily Barrie

wrapped around my fingers, it becomes a part of me- an extension of my own limb

muscles bending, twisting with wood, and graphite; it is me

My silent voice, it needs no words to take your breath away

Portraits from the depth of mind's eye transported through thick veins, bone, and skin.

They surface, finally free from body, to live in a showcase for all to see.

Success is here-muscles unwind, the pencil falls and is forgotten until it is called upon when words can not deliver what the needs to be expressed...