I am made of grey:
my bones are of brittle stone,
my skin is spotted with ash,
and my mind is made of corroded silver.
I grew to hate myself,
wishing that I wasn't burdened by such a depleted, dismal color.
Even the world is adorned with grey,
muted by the waves of nothingness.
I had watched the world blur as
everything lost its color,
the dark and light shifting
against the backdrop of a white sky.
Shadows caressed the surfaces of every object,
their fluid bodies encapsulating the area
like ink splattering across paper.
It's as if time grew tired of constantly running,
and its heaving breaths blew across
the universe and erased every color
that brought me life.
But today I walked on the sidewalk,
tears trickling down my face as
my mind replayed everything
that I hated about both my appearance and the world.
And I accidentally bumped into you,
my friend,
and when we locked eyes
you were the only thing
that wasn't grey.
You smiled at me
with those copper eyes
and cherry colored lips,
your presence radiating vitality.
You were made of all the colors
that I dreamed of,
and yet you couldn't help but admire me,
someone who was empty and infected by grey.
You are beautiful,
you told me as you brushed the tears from my face,
the only reason you view yourself as
devoid of any color
is because you haven't
learned to love yourself.
See the world through my eyes
and you'll know just how
exquisite you are.
That was the moment I understood
that the grey colors of the world
were painted by me—
distorting the surfaces of
everything I encountered,
including myself.
Love yourself,
your words echoed in my mind,
and only then did
the colors reveling in my dreams
become reality.
YOU ARE READING
The Ebb & Flow of Virtue
Poetry~ There is good and bad constantly warring with each other inside you, a small voice resounds in my conscience just as my vision dips underneath the salty water, it is similar to how the land fights with the sea, the sky with gravity, the light...
