i wish i could say
i'm transparent and clear
but there are too many colors in me;
there are different shades of blue
that sometimes look like red,
there is black and there is white
and sometimes they make a grey,
i spit yellow over the corners
and i crave for a crumble of green
i've got blooming flowers
and broken mirrors,
i've got the wrath of thunders
and the peace of sunshine
i am angry
violent
seas,
i am quiet
blue
skies
i am the union between stars
that forms constellations
and the ashes of vanished galaxies,
i am the dirt where flowers grow
and the winter that makes them wither
i am
too simple
to explain,
i am
too complicated
to understand
and i am sharp,
and soft
and i am gentle,
and violent
but i've got so many things–
i am so many things that
i don't even know what i am anymore;
i've got so many colors that
i don't know what my colors are anymore
YOU ARE READING
the beautiful side of misery ¦ pink
Poetryart is nothing more than the way we have to express how beauty looks through our eyes but art, the real, purest and most captivating form of art is finding beauty where nobody else can so i slipped through the most morbid corners of my guts to portr...
