achromatic

I

Am

Not.

I feel colorless

sometimes.

I am not

a magical thing, or

a work of art for you to gawk at,

I won't mask up, I won't color up my gray---

no, my achromatic feelings for you

they are here, they are

drained already,

and when I finally can do something (that makes me feel

fulfilled)

to show a little

bit of something

like a different little hue,

then I might be

inclined to show you the side of me

I only show to my mirror

the achromatic

light

and dark

shadows I drown in

and also live in.

Achromatic; living without color

does not mean you have no

brilliance

but it does suggest

a life lived listlessly

but mine isn't---it is lived

passionately

through my colorless days

and my dream filled ones,

a labyrinth

of memories and nightmares,

fresh pains and old tears,

I am not

just those things

But I am everything,

something without shadow and sound and

without fear---

I am not

i am

not

a piece of work

or art

for you to gawk at

I am pages in different books

black&white too,

with tiny illustrations of moths

and canaries

and sunflowers

But I am not

for you

to gawk at

achromatic

or colorful.