Masterpiece

My life has been a story of color

The blues of my house as fights broke out, words splashing red across the walls and staining them with pain.

The crimson spoke of anger and hate and self-loathing, filling the room and choking tears out of the people I thought I knew.

The grays of school, dull and lonely. Each florescent beam like a spotlight, highlighting my countless insecurities.

But, I still found reasons to love those colors.

Blue. The color of my childhood. Skies filled with all shapes and sizes of clouds, floating contentedly in the air.

The red of the swing set outside, where friends and I would add our own crimson while trying to complete impossible schemes.

The gray of my Nana's hair as she hugged me, her warmth soothing and comfortable.

The opposite of the overbearing heat I was used to. Often being forced under pressure with the hope of creating rainbow-filled diamonds.

My happiness was found outside of those red tinted walls.

The green of the grass as my sister and I laid under the infinite sky, counting clouds like blessings.

The breeze whispering promises of freedom as it moved its gentle fingers through our hair.

But my favorite time was when it was dark.

The golden glow of street lamps bathing my friends and I in yellows as we danced in twilight.

Our play shrouded in secrecy because my mother was as strict as the bright sun, insistent that the day ended as the star set on the horizon.

Magenta and indigo splashing across the sky like a vast ocean of torpor, inviting sleep to whisk us away into dreams filled with colorful inspirations.

My nights were filled with violet confessions.

Prayers that the hazy smoke of my day would let up to allow the bright colors through.

Beautiful and vibrant and real.

My colors got me to where I am today. Painted themselves onto my blank canvas until I became a unique masterpiece, each brushstroke imperfect and special.

The blues, the reds, the grays and greens. The blacks, yellows and the purples all coming together to paint a picture of who I am.

As I learn and grow, new pigments are added, making a more textured and complex piece.

Filled with emotion and tragedy and kindness.

Worth more than a thousand words of gratitude.