I'm here tonight! Amazingly late, but yes I'm here. After all those trials of going through hell
I'm here.
Wait.
You want me to pick colors?
This isn't art this is a poem, why do you want me to pick colors?
But.
But I told you why I'm here tonight.
Still?
Fine.
I'm no Picasso so don't expect me to be an expert.
Alright here are my colors.
Red.
Black.
White.
You want me to define them?
I didn't sign up for an art class!
My red? What about my red?
It means passion? That's ridiculous.
I can have outbursts?
Well yeah when things don't make sense!
...that was an outburst wasn't it..?
Alright what about the black?
It means being strong? That's ridiculous.
How can I be strong if I hold everything and only crumble when I become overwhelmed?
...that explained it didn't it..?
Alright now I'm afraid about the white.
What's the white about?
It means good and pure? That's ridiculous.
How can I be good and pure when all I can care about is others and I haven't felt a touch of evil?
....that was a little to much wasn't it..?
Alright so I chose my colors.
I was given these explanations.
And I'm here.
Why does it matter?
Because you want me to draw with these colors?
But I'm not Picasso!
I'm not in art class!
This is poetry!
You still want me to draw?
Fine.
Here's red!
Here's black so you can stop bothering me.
And here's white to give it some help.
What do I see?
Well I don't know I-
I-I- see me..
These colors are me?
That means..I made a painting of me..
I'm here..
