I yearn to see this life as a painting.
I want to see the colors that are mixed in,
The colors I have not yet seen,
The colors that would spiral into blackness,
Textures that would bellow for help
When they know no one is coming.
Would there be a rough sea
Dyed by the blood of my heart?
Can there be rain as I drown in the night sky?
Oh, what a mess it would be,
A waste of space,
A waste of materials,
A painting I would hate.
But I would still frame it
For that is me.
Posted in response to the challenge Emily Mason.