D.I.Y.

 

I’m sat in a room of four white walls,

Clean and sterile like a TV. Hospital.

They never used to be like this.

 

It wasn’t too long ago that they had color,

Passionate reds, happy yellows, loving greens.

The colors gradually became pale until

I painted over them in white:

And now they’re just like me –

Blank and clean

No features I can see,

No emotions I can feel.

 

I’m sat in a room of four white walls,

And from the corner of my eyes

I can see where the white is thinnest –

And the color bleed through.