Color Me November

Celadon

Smeared streaks taint my skin.
Make me whole again
So that I may never know the cracks
When the blood dries.
Where is my redemption yet?
Bathe me, glaze me;
I would give anything
To be put on a shelf.
Leave me, forget me
Until it is time to move on,
And the things you carry
Must be taken

Or left behind.