My problem is not that someone took away my crayons. Its that society made crayons unacceptable. I still have my crayons, but only in my pink bedroom.
I used to color pictures of myself yellow hair, perfect pink lips, and big blue eyes. The sun in the corner of the page would shine. The flowers around me would always take longer to draw than my face would.
Last year I would stand on the painted states at my old elementary school. Distance didn't seem to bug me then but that was only because God was with us both. I carried my crayons with me.
I've never been good at being friends but I got a million pages in my book we can color on.
Crayons refuge my lack of love and compliment my ability to love. But I've always known how to be alone.
I color my life in the mornings. Gray, gray, gray, black. But the day I met you, you colored me red.
"The flowers around me would always take longer to draw than my face would."
ReplyDeletesimple and sweet. love it.
That last line is awesome... "you colored me red"
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