Since my first post…


It has been a year.
the canvas is still empty.
the door left ajar.
and I still have nothing to say.
my colors are still packed for better days.
my words are reserved and I haven’t shared with you the color of my insides…
the red well tucked in a tube. the blue waiting to sprinkle the white. and the white waiting to lose itself in someone else’s existence.
my brushes are dry. their hair virgin and smooth.
all I read is you.
I learned your expressions, your moods…
I did spill some of my red on this page.
but my canvas is still empty and I still have nothing to say.