Wishful thinking

The page is blank

but my mind is filled

with colors of wishful thinking

in pails tipping and slipping

over the edge of my ability

to restrain.

Goddess of Mercy,

I can’t keep them from

dripping

dripping through my fingers

as I scramble to keep them

from staining

my dreams with gloss and

vibrancy of a life

unwritten

for me

so I sit amongst the wreckage

the splattered mattered mess

of colors bleeding, blending and chasing

what’s left of will

through the cracks in

the bends of my mind

soaking my soul

instead of paper

because it

it is still

blank.

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