White Canvas by Chloé Boileau-Trudeau

To our endless days and our chalk-stained hands,
I want to go back.

Retrace my cartoon steps
to the life inside of me.

Between our restlessness and wandering souls,
I can still see from here
our old peering fences and field filled days.

When we didn’t know that monsters and men
are the same people,

And that ghosts wear cloaks
to hide within us.

I now spy with my little eye,
the little eyes of those
who spy no more

Still, with closed eyes,
these stained walls
and sharp edges
wash back into
the soft curves
we used to know.

Our denim hearts, seeing red
and feeling blue,
frolic back to our tickled pink selves

Back to our candy corn dreams
and our big, white canvas.

Claim we may
that our hearts are shattered by love,
but a heart that ceases
to remember its yesterdays
is already broken

And maybe one day,
our ship-wrecked hearts
will learn once more
how to paint their way
back to white.

Chloé Boileau-Trudeau is a student at John Abbott College in Quebec.

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