Colorless Canvas

I am a canvas.

Always taking on other colorful personalities, but never truly finding one of my own.

The relationships I make.

The friends that fade away.

They are all due to the ever revolving changes of my painting.

When I was young I found comfort with the girls, a soft pink.

As I grew up I knew I had to bond with the boys, so I took on a bashful blue.

My pre-teens, a rageful red of self discovery that tried to blend the pink and blue.

A strong purple bond with my parents started to fade.

I conformed to what those around me were doing.

I didn't want to stand out but fit in.

The teens were especially hard.

This was the time my peers took refuge in relationships, a velvety red.

I tried to blend in by following my heart.

Unfortunately my loins did not follow suit.

Early twenties seem to be a cause and effect of throwing every color on to the canvas creating a blur of dark ugly colors.

To start fresh, I removed all of the current colors and wiped the slate clean.

The white began to bloom into a lush of neutral colors.

A midnight blue was introduced but soon dissipated.

Neon colors splashed and soared.

No matter how colorful the painting, parts of white always shined through.

Soon the dark colors resurfaced and the picture became another blurry mess of reds, blues and black.

Finally I found that yellowy orange that helped me become the person I am today.

Now I live my life according to my own colors.

Careful not to mix too many pallets to create the mess I used to be.