turn it into something beautiful

'Turn it into something beautiful.'
she said.
staring at me from the bus window reflection.
peeking from scabs of paint in my hands.
Turn it.
into something new.

Narcotically
dripping
into my blood
sinking
into my would-be hopeful skin.
the dangerous mantra of making things worthwhile.

Looking.
for fists in my palms
to defy
my sanity gone rogue
gone heavy
turned dull

like caked mud
crack away at the
hesitance in my handwriting
at the
salt in my vocal cords.

There's a symmetry in silence
Stop looking for spirals in the darkening blood.

Grab the beating source of it. and turn it. into something strong.