Simply Colour Inside The Lines

On sober nights when sleep won't arrive

I sit up awake, eyes open wide,

noticing tiny patches of empty fabric in the Inidan wall hanging beside my bed.

Wiggling my feet to the pogo stick melodies of the Tulllycraft songs,

which I play likely too loudly for this time of the night.

I pass the hours with a black felt pen

filling in the spaces the ink never stained.

Dots, lines, squares, the gaps disappear.

And I wonder

if, just maybe, healing the missing pieces of myself

could be as simple as colouring them in.

Maybe if I use a bold-tipped marker

it won't take too long.

I coule be complete come the dawn.

I would match the colour perfectly

so it won't show if I stray outside the lines

It won't matter if just for a second

I

close

my

eyes

But now my thoughts are racing again as I struggle to decide

what colour is a weathered soul?

Oh how I wish I could just sleep and wake up whole.

---

originally written circa late 2017 - early 2018