Colored

A Colored existence—

All I do, think, say is

Colored but

not by me.

In the mirror I

see myself and

think of the

Colors I’ve been painted.

The undertones of

my words, my intentions—

my selves are

lost in

synesthetic gulfs

between the

thoughts I vocalize and

shades they can recognize.

I look again, I

Know myself and

this is one

that does, that thinks, that feels.

Colored by scant spectrums,

I make peace with

the thought that

my words gain new depths of

extents unknown to

me even—

seeing new colors the

longer I look while

some still

choose to see only one.