when you speak
the colors
are bleeding out of you
from every part of you
screaming and splitting the atmosphere with bright red
and whispering across sweat damp pillows in dark purple
and laughter painting bare walls and empty air neon orange
with screams and sobs coloring the already thick air an even thicker shade of gray
tracing green into souls without ever noticing them changing shades when you're the one causing it
hiding the navy blue under your skin when they see the colors fading away
spilling out a light pink with every proclamation of love tumbling from your lips
letting every shade and hue of the rainbow pour past your lips whether you wanted it to or not
and when you had leeched out all the separating dyes that were never permanent on your soul you were considered brave for giving it all up
but when your spine stiffened straight and you never let your words paint color in the air you were considered greedy
but you were strong for keeping it all
because so many colors are smeared or splattered or splashed onto another's skin when you should be keeping them
you were strong because you kept the separated dyes that still weren't permanent on your soul
because you didn't want it to be used to pigment a blank canvas that should have another story on it
and its okay to paint your own
