i loved to paint using your colour.
i’d go day and night, from one canvas to another, using different shades of you to paint all kinds of pictures.
i never lost any ideas.
i never had to find inspiration.
it all just comes to me whenever i look at you.
one day, i woke up colour blind. and unfortunately, it’s in your colour.
all the paintings, all the sketches, all the canvasses that were of your colour, plastered, hanged, and taped all over my walls doesn’t make sense anymore.
it was all grey. all dull. a colour i know existed but never really tried using before.
i tried searching for your colours in the things you’ve touched. the words you’ve said. i searched everywhere but whenever i do think your colour will come back, my eyes revert to reality.
now you’re just a memory.
your colour will only exist inside my mind.
those shades i loved. the pigments i crave to achieve every time i stroke my brush. it’s all in my head now.
it’s been years now. your colour isn’t as bright as i thought my memory would remind me of.
i paint with a different colour now.
actually, i paint with all the colours now except yours.
all those nights i spent painting, it’s with every colour i come across but yours.
now my wall’s full of colour again. all from different parts of me. colours i never knew existed.
now,
i’m happy. i’m content.
i’m colourful.