by Payton Whedbee
The eclectic pallet of colors,
the tasteful swirls of blues and pinks making up the sky I see when my eyes are closed,
the scrapped piece of news paper used to mix my shades,
It all reminds me of home.
where the canvas is yours,
where your trees can be purple and your skies yellow,
where you can create a reality among your very own fantasy.
the most alluring sight,
a sunset of egg yolk and orange peels,
the ones that keep me from feeling blue.
the hair of the me that I wish I was,
the hair of the me that I want to be, to make the inside coexist with the out
the hair I can only have with my world created by the brush.
articulating my feelings and emotions,
when my rhetoric fails me,
my canvas never does.
© 2018 Payton Whedbee