A world

my world

in shades of gray

I look all over

for

a bit of blue

a touch of yellow

a hint of red

I look for

I plead for

a flash of lightening

a burst of sunshine

a rush of wind

But this is mine

this is my world

the brush is in my hand

a bit a touch a hint

of blue yellow red

a flash a burst a rush

of lightening sunshine wind

it is all mine to create

How have I become this?

This nothing

I was something, once

How can the addition of time

Add up to nothing

where there used to be something?

I don't remember anything being

removed

I don't recall anything being

taken

But here I am

Less then I was

But more than I can stand

I lost myself

again

I searched

and I searched

but I couldn’t find me

I found someone else

She looked like me

almost

She talked like me

sort of

I am walking backwards now

retracing my steps

trying to see where I left me

What is it about the wind?

A quiet minute

changed to a pensive moment when the wind blows

A friend on a bench

changed to a lover when the leaves rustle

A slight pause

changed to an epic inhale when the air shifts

Weighted lightness

Romantic isolation

Is it because it comes from far away?

Is it because it travels farther than we can see?

Or is it because we share it with strangers?

It hurts, they say

It cannot be changed

But can be adjusted

I spend my days dulling edges

I spend my nights sucking out venom

It will bruise, but never break the skin

It will sting, but never poison

It will suggest, not insist

It will nudge, not force

I will make the truth my truth

And once it is mine

I will sharpen and wield it

When I was a child

My soul was the same as my heart

Young

Free

Mine

When I was a child

The future was the same as the present

Hopeful

Open

Mine

When I was a child

My mind was the same as my body

Young

Fresh

Mine

And then I grew up

And then life happened

My soul remains decorative and ornate

My heart has become injured and weathered

My future remains hopeful and undecided

My present has become painful and challenging

My mind remains that of a child and free

My outsides are that of disease, but mine

Buzzing fills the air

The hum of a machine

The music of a needle

A mechanical melody

A metallic aria

A needle dipped in ink

Drags on my skin

Its song, uninterrupted

Its sting, familiar

Its purpose, art

A pain I know

A pain I choose

In a world out of my control

I picked this

In a life completly unpredictable

I approved this

My skin, my body

Covered with countless scars

After countless surgeries

Giving away little truths

To unknown strangers

Is now a canvas

And I decide what to say

I decide what to show

You will know me

Because I will tell you

Flowers are everywhere

Littered with heartfelt cards

Written by strangers

Nestled in bright colors

Gathered into a bunch

Scattered on the ground

The cut stems a mirror of the occasion

Ripped from the earth

Killed to participate in death

Paraded around with good intentions

But they are just more dead bodies

The smell of carnations

Once so sweet

Now a sickening stink of sadness

The petals of lilies

Once a sign of spring

Now a precursor of decay

The delicacy of baby's breath

Reduced to obligatory filler

The innocence of a white rose

Reduced to intentional lament

Flowers will never be the same

Holding a match too long

Waiting that extra second

Foolishly, knowingly

Watching the flame

As it grows down

Life, in reverse

Creating only by destroying

Leaving charred wood in its wake

Mesmerized by the destruction

A ballet of indefinable colors

Until you feel the heat

You shake out the flame

Frantically and shocked by the burn

But you have felt it before

And you watched it coming

You allowed it

You wanted it

You are in control

You are alive

You chose it, then refused it

You caused it, then ended it

A reminder of life

A denial of death

The pain of being

I look at his face

I really look

I scan his features

His eyes

His cheeks

His lips

Slowly my eyes separate them

Until he is a stranger

A collection of features I do not recognize

Just a man

Just another man

For a moment I wonder

Who is this man?

Does this man love me?

Does this man see me?

He feels the weight of my stare

And his eyes meet mine

A moment passes

No, a breath

And this stranger is him again

The butterflies of the unknown

Replaced by the butterflies of recognition

The thrill of uncertainty

Replaced by the thrill of security

The romance of dreams made

Replaced by the romance of dreams fulfilled

Once again he is mine

And I am his

Forever

Until the next time I look at his face

Until the next time I really look