Every time I write about you

You become real

My heart makes it to the page

Imaginings don’t fade

My words seem to sketch your portrait

In ashen blues and greys

 

I search for brighter colours

I Consider cerulean blue

And  cadmium red

My hand loses control

The pallet lies before me

Depressing 

Bright hues have blended into mud

 

With all my might

I will myself to draw soft lines

Calligraphy to disguise my mood

But my will is weak

Too easily taken over

By something so deep

I am sure that it doesn’t abide in me

 

 

There is a ghost

It hovers on the periphery

Invisible by nature

Shrewd and deliberate 

He guides my pen

Choosing to shade everything in bad blood

C.K.22