Paint me Gray

9/14/2009

Exhaustion paints me gray in a world of Technicolor drones I sink to the bottom of the barrel and drown in my mediocrity. My freckles are washed out on my face. My flesh is cold and dead. The sun goes down taking with it my soul. I’ve lost myself in the shuffle of time.

9/15/09

I’m scared.

9/16/09

Are you beautiful? Are you beautiful like me? My exterior is quite plain, but my interior outshines the sun. I need to hold on, hold on, until you can see past what’s outside of me and embrace the warmth and love I have inside of me.

Exhaustion paints me gray in a world dazzled by what a plastic surgeon’s knife can sculpt from flesh and bone. I’m all natural, a little worn and torn with time, but my heart has all you need to make you feel fine.

9/21/09

Life is shifting and I’m changing into someone I need to be, but what about you, are you still you if I’m no longer me. I dance around truths and play tag with denials. I was hoping to escape this painful reality inside a cocoon of frivolity, but you insist on grounding me.

You always paint me your way and your painting and I never look the same.