I painted my world,
Long strides with thin brush.
The layers went on black,
No matter the colour i did touch.
Black
Onto black
Onto black
Onto black
Again and again until eventually i crack.
I began to paint black,
a blackened sky,
Till a streak of blue caught my eye.
There you stood,
your brush in hand.
As you painted my sky right where you did stand.
Blue onto purple,
Purple onto pink.
dipped my brush in yellow,
Splattered the vibrant ink.
The yellows changed shape,
Spread and flex over the blacks.
They became the stars in my sky,
As you painted around the cracks.
"Why spare for the broken?"
You chuckle as blue's flood the sky,
The blacks complimented,
The perfect symphony, but why?
"Why not?"
YOU ARE READING
Fractured Thoughts
Short Story(VERY PROMINENT TRIGGER WARNING. TOPICS DISCUSSED IN HERE COULD POSSIBLY BE VERY TOXIC. READ AT YOUR OWN WILL.) From the mass of my brain, things tend to come up from moments of darkness. This brings out the inspiration for writing and therefore, th...
