You colored me in soft blues and greens,
Hard purples and reds.
Little black specks, to accentuate my most precious places.
You blurred the colors together. . .
so it is hard for me to see...
who it is,
I am,
anymore. . .
The edges of my body,
the outline for your work.
The insides forgotten
as you busied yourself coloring. . .
If only it were beautiful.
If only you had just torn out this page.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
Fathers Day
May your words and actions as a father define and consume you today and everyday. May every failure to love and protect be amplified when y...
-
Mud You, You see me with mud covered glasses, feel me with shaky hands, love me with missing pieces, and reach for me with broken arms....
-
I’ve recently had a painful epiphany. I’m aware of situations where my siblings and I will “find an in” on a typically strained relationship...
-
Something to consider...Yes, when some crimes occur, police sometimes come and help with the immediate needs, coincidently by contacting oth...
No comments:
Post a Comment