Colors I’ll paint you by

Look at me, sweetie.
With all my purple bruises kissed
wildly by circumstance and time
peppered across the
evening palette of my skin –
the grey cloud of my cheeks.

Look at me, sweetie.
At my skinny, scarred fingertips
calloused by shattered china
on kitchen floors and bathroom walls.
Pink and faded upon your touch.
The scarlet plush of
uncapped skin laid bare
in cold, linoleum.

Look at me, sweetie.
At the rusty stain of my dress
against the pallid color myself.
Each splatter an afternoon
of lost thought in between words
you thought could save me.

Look at me, sweetie.
At the inky blackness I hold
within eyes stitched shut by dreams
and untold nightmares whispered
upon pillows and phonecalls.
Arms and limbs holding
me tight like sutures.

I look
At you and I see brushstrokes
of fingerprints lost in between
promises and daybreaks.

I look
at you and I see a bare canvas painted
umber by the terra cotta
of unwashed coffee mugs
in the kitchen sink.
The floor kissed by sunshine,
our shadows swimming
-languid and sweet.

I look
at you and I remember glimpses
of dewy green grass between toes
blushed rose by walking.
Our midnight ceiling
punctured by stars and
whispered shared dreams.

I look at you.
And I see oranges and amber
dancing behind windows
awaiting evening.
I look at you.
And I see colours
I never thought existed.

 

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Published by

cie miraflor

A Filipino at heart and a Thomasian in spirit. A vocalist. A bookworm. A chocoholic. A liar. A dreamer. A coffee addict. A writer of poetry and short stories. A pending Information Technologist. A frustrated programmer. Blinded with love for Batman.

2 thoughts on “Colors I’ll paint you by”

  1. I just wanted to express how beautiful i found this poem! I came across it through Artparasite’s. It was the glimpse of the line “grey cloud of cheek” that caught my attention. I find it so vigorous in colour like a day dream and so realistic in grey like, well, reality. It doesn’t strike me as a mere love poem. But reminded me of Van Gogh’s words to his brother in one of his letters, ” life is the colour of dishwater”.
    So, sometimes life is tethered and in healing and somebody points you towards the rainbow that your perhaps missing out on. I’m sorry if my interpretation or reaction might have offended you. But i truly love it and it touched me to my core. It was awakening. Thank you!

    Like

    1. Words are not enough to describe how heart warming this is for me! It feels absolutely terrific to know that the poem had left dust prints in your thoughts. This is wonderful. You are wonderful. Thank you so much!! 🙂

      Like

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