You speak in violent crimsons that leave my
Dull silver set stuck between sparkling and faded.
I trade this for nothing, because
No one else is around for any optional situation.
It all swirls up in massive horrendous tornados
Of imaginary chaos- ceasing to linger above me.
I get ****** up in the spiral of spinning infinity,
And how everything is exactly perfect, always,
And how it is all completely beautiful, because it is all
Right.
I feel like people never completely understand that concept.
But then again, one can only attempt to relate based on
One's perception- or point of view,
Being based on personal experience.
I guess we have destiny, along with some of our own choices
To thank for that.
Because we should be thankful for what we have
Around us, and also within us.
Because when all else is gone,
We have always got ourselves.
And no one can take that away.
Even when I feel like I'm so far gone,
That I can't even hear those piercing words of crimson.
But my silver is still dull-
At least I know I have some shine, somehow,
And sometime- I will be so stunning,
That I can be a ******* rainbow if I want to.
Because although there is no one around
To bring harmony to all my many colors,
I can paint my own masterpiece,
And I will live in that world
Until this one fades away.