What does this mean?
I take out my pastels,
my charcoals.
I draw.
Eyes.
Tears.
A sea of blue.
A bright red flower.
Black.
An angry man.
I scribble.
Repeat.
Eyes.
Tears.
A sea of blue.
A bright red flower.
Black.
An angry man.
I scribble.
The same things.
Over and over again.
Never ending.
Two pages now.
Three.
Four and a half.
I set my colors,
my charcoals away.
I have made a mess.
Pastel powder is everywhere.
Smudges on my clothes.
My fingers are blue.
I put the pages away.
Run from the thought.
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