Lost You In A Paint Palette
It all began when I first took a photograph of you.
You were quiet, but your mind was screaming without rest,
I could tell.
You smiled and your cheeks creased in ways they did all the time.
It was practiced, normal, and casual.
I was amazed at how natural you appeared.
And I kept taking shots of that crease of smile from every angle I could possibly have
On your pretty face.
You know, thinking back to that day, I think those photos were something
I began to have fascination for,
I just had to have them stitched to my memory.
They spoke to me with words no one could ponder up so gracefully.
I just fell in love with the words you didn't speak,
With the silence we shared,
With the secrets we carried between dark brown eyes.
You were something that changed everything I had developed morally.
My belief now became unreal once I saw your story,
Told through skin and designer clothes.
I mean before me was art without a paint brush,
It honestly defied the truth to what we all know and believe to be true.
It felt so long ago, but it was only a few minutes before they locked you in that room,
And the paint palette went to work to transform you.
Your skin now screamed along with your mind, your thoughts now held nothing.
You were emotionless,
But the colors turned you into what was impossible to understand.
I couldn't read you anymore, you just became a blur to me.
And looking back at the pictures I took not too long ago, I see you no more.
You're just gone now,
Vanished.
And I miss you, and I never even got a chance to show you
A piece of art that I once knew.
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