Life's painting

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.