Surprisingly, the boredom was a welcome feeling,
Deprived of solitude.
The grey so sickeningly consumed my canvas,
But I let it.
Contorted figures on the ceiling danced me to sleep,
Woken barely by a song.
I can’t tell anymore, where it ends,
Where it begins.
A study of colours;
What made sense and what didn’t.
Red and blue, red and black, red and green?
I don’t know.
Notwithstanding, onwards and upwards.
Slowly but surely, making ends justify means.
The adversity of triumph was masked,
Blood stained hands covered my eyes,
But I let them.
For the worst has passed,
A brief pause pressed heavily on my chest,
Forcing a breath.
Blue blood draws back,
Craving,
Seeking nourishment
Maybe it’s the slow rush from the brain
To the fingertips.
Or the eyes that sought reprieve,
That answered the door to solitude.
He was a welcome friend.