If I would want to paint my life
in colors more than black and white,
then you would go
and catch a rainbow for me.

Only I
will ever know
where you learned
the art of catching colors.
You never told
a single soul,
but I can see
the truth you hold:

I know you once
were staring down
the rainbow that acts as a bridge to Heaven.
I know you once
had stagnant kaleidoscopes behind your eyes
whose beads were just bits of your own earth.

Dear, I hope you learn
that I do not want your kind of rainbow
with emo bands and sleeping pills,
with leaping from the window sills;
I do not want to see the world
through a foggy veil I believe is truth,
so when I'm ready to paint my life
in colors more than black and white,
I shall not turn to you,
but to the smoky place
that acts as a bridge to Hell.