It was so black and white,
That the black was not black and the white was not white.
Everything lost definition of color,
And the color spectrum cringed from the blankness.
Every day when I see the black and white,
It’s lines in a picture book.
The uncolored pictures are hollow,
They have meaning yet no life.
Trying to pick up a crayon to color in,
But not being able to get a grip.
Just how we relate sadness with food,
And pain with indulgences.
My crayon came closer and closer to my blank life,
Until I could feel the presences.
Color about to splash on,
Losing myself.
I cannot keep a grasp on my crayon,
I watch others and all of them have finished their coloring books.
You catch my eye with your bright blue colored drawings,
I feel like I remember you and my body feels balanced.
When I see you like your impossible blue,
And my black and white color book remains blank.
But you can come and help me through it,
Help me finish my coloring book and then I can become like everyone else.
You showed me how to,
But now I am trapped inside the lines that I am being forced to color in.
I want you to help me but I remember you are long gone in reality,
I become worse because I can finally remembered we never have colored together.
But I came through,
Realizing you where never really here.
It’s still just the black and white, and me,
Other then it just eating away at what’s left me,
I just color alone,
And how lonely my own black and white can be.
