Existent

In color.

It was as though my whole life had been in black and white. A dull, overlying and provocative ache. A stinging behind the eyes, a mindless soul, a cascading night. Blank sheet and what would I write? Bold imprinted letters, a less qualified cry? But then, you, star entailed sky-you- now I pick up my tool of, once destruction, now impaled "art", and suddenly a whole world of color, white crisp, now shaded delight. Engraved hope in an undying fight. My every word and space in between, my metaphorical symbolic apathy. She, you, her- my, 7 days, created universe.