Monotony.
I'm destined for repetition but I can't bear to listen to the same beat for the entire song.
Although my dreams may be in color, I still see in black and white.
I had hoped one day I could see more than just the canvas, and paint something more, anything, but it seems as if I've run out of paint.
I fantasized about traveling across crystal seas filled with the deepest part to explore, clouds that could hold me high above my fears, and stars that held the truths of all lies, but I sit on my wooden chair.
I face the wall that I stare at day after day.
My chair doesn't move.
So I don't.
The wooden grains of the wall used to have animations of my endeavors but it seems they are nothing more than lines.
Once a rich brown filled with speckles of lightly colored sand, have turned into strokes of grey that add to an already finished canvas.
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Word count- 155
Published- May 17, 2024
this one sucks but idgaf I'm too tired lol
