All of my friends describe their lives with color,
creating vivid displays of emotion and art,
and if I were to pour my soul into one of these displays,
and brush a canvas with my words,

I guess I would start somewhere with the negative.

A midnight blue finds itself on my brush when an emptiness is present,
and a touch of this hue mixed with a granite gray soon becomes the loneliness, almost always paired with the melancholy.
My brush shifts upwards towards violet and juniper green, and I find myself becoming more content with being alone.

Then I paint the anger,
The crimson red and fire orange penetrate the mellow colors of depression and point fingers at others.
With each brush stroke I torch another bridge, leaving my friends in ashes and my pride untouched.
Black streaks of hatred stain my canvas and my love while I try my best to calm down.
And once the rage dries up and settles, and we get past my mindless mistakes, I move on to the positive side of my art.

Light greens and yellows dance upon the blank white canvas while I Paint Summer nights and pastel skylines.
Shades of sapphire pass by when Laughing with all of my friends and adoring her perfect freckled face.
These colorful drugs course through my thoughts, and leave me with a love for life and a honest smile.

I wear these hues at different times, and drench myself in the life they give,
painting canvases and promises for others, and living in a world of my own colors.
Accenting pain, sorrow, and sadness. Punctuating love, joy, and living .


                                                 My words.
                                                 My canvas.
                                                 My beloved.
                                                 My life.