Wet Paint Poem by Maya Hanson

as the years walk by
you can either admire them or
wish they would turn back-
choose.
as you grow up
you need to be told
you are not a puzzle
someone needs to put together
you do not need work to make you beautiful.
you do not need touch to keep you safe.
you do not need hands to make you whole.

you are a painting
you need to be told how
every day you have carved up the corners of someone's mouth
until they can taste something like a smile.
you need to be told how
every day you have spilled a little paint where you walk,
palettes blended in the canyons of your footsteps,
leaving behind drops people can use
to give their world a little more color.
you need to be told how
every inch of your skin is a different wavelength
and no one wishes one of those wavelengths was gone
how else would we finish a rainbow?
you need to be told how
no matter how beautiful you already are,
every day you are still drying.
we are all still drying.
we are all just
wet paint.