Rose Gold| Paint series

4.Silver + Grey

Warning: Self harm/bodily harm
━━

There were things that most people doubted, things that could be easily fixed or rearranged. There were things that people saw in themselves that no one else did, things that weren't there to begin with. A feeling of losing your own worth, of breaking into pieces with your own horrendous image of yourself that you begin to wonder if anyone truly is honest with their words. He had this emotion for a while, more than a while actually for it stemmed from black, white and grey. All the words that they said, all the smiles that they gave, all the lectures of how 'wonderful' it was that they spouted in his face couldn't possibly be true.

Silver twists itself into your body, it becomes as sharp as the steel blade of a knife that's digging into your flesh, twisting and twisting to hear your screams echo within your own ears. It whispers like the wind, like a Mother singing softly to her baby. "They're lying...they're lying...." it continues its whispering yet the tone gets darker, you're beginning to see spots of silver all around you. The knife is being twisted even further, you can't help but let out a pitiful sob, their smiles burning into the edges of your mind, the words echoing in your ears until all you can do is shake and whimper like a pitiful dog.

He hid himself from the world, he opted to hear nothing than to hear lies. He trusted the whispering voice, it was safety, it was security, It was protection. He never once took out the knife, letting it burrow and twist deeper into his flesh until he's crying out in pain, he's choking on his own air, trying to make sense of a situation that's becoming filled with grey. He's breaking and he can't stop it.

It was almost laughable. He was as delicate as a freshly made painting, fragile as newly made glass, yet he had cracks everywhere, he had smeared smudges all over his soul. He truly did wonder if anything that the bad boy had said previously was of any true word. He hadn't seen him since and although he felt relieved, the silver knife kept digging further, feeding him with thoughts and words that caused a choke in his throat.

Today was another day in the infamous room of paintings. He had rearranged his desk to sit right in front of the shelf that seemed to hold his paintings on display. He had once asked the teacher if he could label what they meant yet soon dismissed the idea, the silver knife had dug in deeper at that point, causing a wreckage of the art room two hours later in a fit of green. He had briefly wondered why the teacher had assigned to him to paint his feelings out, to detail them through colors, one emotion at a time.

The day thoughts ceased once his eyes focused back on the blank canvas with the brush dripping silver paint. In a rush of confusion, He had almost labeled it grey yet the differences were seen before the mistake was brought forth. Silver was sharp as a blade, light as a feather, yet carried a powerful aura of fear and confusion. Silver's taste was almost sour yet it was also almost bitter. He couldn't describe it correctly not that he wanted to.

He played with the jar of silvery paint glitter, staring as it shone whenever light passed through the glass container. His fingers scraped against the glass, the feeling of it slipping past his dainty hands and the sound of it crashing to the floor was enough to cause his head to throw back as his eyes screwed abut. The silver knife simply dug in deeper, another mistake.

He stared at the shattered pieces of the jar, watching the paint stick to the sides and coat it with a sticky yet shiny substance. His eyes began to grow hazy, a clouded over gaze as he knelt down and picked up a shard, twirling it within his small fingers. It was sharp and jagged and the silver paint that glittered upon it made him wince. Perhaps he could rid himself of the knife that was twisting deep into his own soul.

The jagged point of the glass touched his flesh softly, too softly. He frowned for a brief moment before shaking it off and wiping the edges of the glass with his shirt. It went back to being pressed up against pale flesh. A stinging sensation entered him, it was more painful than the grey coldness that would usually freeze his bones. He had forgotten about his project for now, still knelt down upon the ground, one eye peeking open before it closed. The pain never left and to him it felt like being burned alive. Fire was licking up his insides, his nerves and frying up his brain, it was being wild and his body was just the forest.

The glass fell to the floor, its silvery edges being mixed in with red. This alone reminded him of another color which was simply another combination of two separate ones. He wanted to wait for the red to empty out yet he knew that it was futile to sit there in a puddle. So, he stood up, wincing and choking on his own oxygen as he grabbed the white and red kit that was seated upon one of the shelves.

He was glad that it was only a line that wouldn't do much damage. Letting his arm fall limp to his side, he rose his right hand once more and picked up the brush. The idea of a brilliant masterpiece took time yet the confidence to believe in it took forever.

He tilted his head to the side, staring at the fourth masterpiece having been done this week. His eyes stung and his shoulders tensed as he gripped the brush tighter than necessary and his raspy voice was soon the only thing heard.

"Is it really good...?"

The once blank canvas was now filled with two colors. A young boy stood in a crowd of different colored silhouettes, he was holding a silver knife that he was twisting into his heart. Words appeared all around the top of the canvas. Was he good enough? Was he too skinny? Too fat? Was he dumb? Was he smart? Were they lying or were they honest? He was lined with cracks across his skin that seeped red. He was breaking and all he wanted was someone to fix him—

Does he really like me?

Silver is a knife that we've twisted deep into our souls. Each day we hesitate and dismiss a thought is when it simply gets twisted deeper but be a good lad and take it out with Confidence.

━━━◯━━━
Hey guys. Updated again mostly because I was feeling rather.... 'unwell' so to speak. Hope you enjoyed this rather long chapter.