Colors Bleed

Shades of black

distilled from haunts too dark

fade the paint of my portrait.

Storms bubble and surge

through my wake.

Melted glass

sizzles beneath my eyes

feeding the blemished lens

of my demise.

I blink

one and two

as I gaze into the pieces of a broken mirror.

And again the colors run through

bleeding between

the spaces so near.

 

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