The paint covers her still body, draping over

Her frail chest, her protruding

Bones,

And her long-shut eyes; it blinds her

Anyways, and it

Fills her mouth, the paint, it takes her

Away from this landscape

It paints a new

Picture,

A new story, and depicts her as she used to be;

The paint, it heals her,

To walk again anew, and start over,

It coats

Her legs and forces her to get up

And walk—and,

The artist?

She watches the canvas come to life, a mini-version

Of herself,

Stepping off of the blank, white paper

And out of

Depression—

Alive,

The twin girls touch hands, the doppelganger

Gets as much of the

Paint

On her creator as she can, and so they

Save each other,

She

Saves herself;

She creates her own story and her own

Happy

Ending.