Chromia

Half green.

Butterflies fill my lungs

As my breath hides behind an

inescapable blush.

My ambition precedes me.

Spunk,

Funk,

And love (is love).

No ones knows where I’ll go next

Except that wherever it is will be

Bubbles and fallen leaves.

Birds singing in trees.

Shoulders filled with ease.

Relaxation, please.

Groovy tunes and flare pants.

Pictures of cats

And giggles and jiggles and

the lightning behind thunder;

the beating heart behind skin.

Pulsing blood. Pulsing warmth.

Half blue.

Unbounded sorrow mixed

with blubbering anger and

Bloodlust with nowhere to go.

Claw marks on private skin and

screams that will never reach ears.

Understanding: the cosmos.

I am the universe.

Ever expanding, colliding,

creating the new and unknown.

The eye of the storm,

The storm itself:

The shaking of a snow globe.

The absence of light

That makes it so much more bright.

The fallen leaves, the dead trees.

Cutting back a rose bush and

Painting the blooming

Red with blood and thorns.

My eyes are two different colors.