i used to see the world in grey,
few things ever appeared in color;
i was desperately searching for a way to paint my surroundings,
but none of the pigments ever came out right.
there are days where i see rainbows everywhere,
rainbows in a puddle, in a car, even in an old lady’s hair...
but the grey always has a way of creeping in again.
it is not easy to plug a spilled bottle of paint back up,
it gets messy;
it gets in your hair, on your hands...
and even after you’ve washed it all away, you can still see it under your fingernails.
the grey has a way of sticking like that, too.
for so long i felt i would never be able to see things the way they truly are,
my vision has been compromised with a permanent filter
but i stopped minding it that much.
the unusual becomes normal when it is all you know.
Jan 13, 2020
Jan 13, 2020 at 8:26 AM UTC
i used to see the world in grey,
few things ever appeared in color;
i was desperately searching for a way to paint my surroundings,
but none of the pigments ever came out right.
there are days where i see rainbows everywhere,
rainbows in a puddle, in a car, even in an old lady’s hair...
but the grey always has a way of creeping in again.
it is not easy to plug a spilled bottle of paint back up,
it gets messy;
it gets in your hair, on your hands...
and even after you’ve washed it all away, you can still see it under your fingernails.
the grey has a way of sticking like that, too.
for so long i felt i would never be able to see things the way they truly are,
my vision has been compromised with a permanent filter
but i stopped minding it that much.
the unusual becomes normal when it is all you know.
