Soft pink
mixed with the blue of today
a magenta now
you can see the swirls and streaks of the colors in the sky
warm and cool
the sharp, sincere orange flashes across the horizon
mixing
merging
flying
a silent orchestra from above
twisting
leaping
soaring
dashing across horizons
coloring the normally blue sky
turning the white clouds pink and gold and orange
too many colors
not enough words
the silent orchestra of sunset.
I am a notebook
spiral bound
spinning down the length of the paper
twisting
turning
twirling
until I hit the bottom
and then I spin back up
the lines passing by quicker and quicker each time
Mediocre
boring
bland
drawn-out
not over yet
a story with an unfinished ending
an experience so mediocre its bad
a full life dotted with holes
gaps in my well-being
All I can do is sit
and watch
and wait
as they purchase me
as I am loaded into the back of a car
as I am unloaded from the car
as I am brought into their house
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