The Colors of My World
by Miranda Hawkins

 

This was my creative writing final from 2 years ago. The assignment was to mingle two creative meduims. One being writing of some sort, of course. I did a poem with 8 stanzas, 6 of which I illustrated on the computer using Painter 5.

 

 

This world of mine is nothing special, mundane at most.
I must breathe, therefore I must live.
This could change. . . but I am a coward.
Only the colors keep me from falling off the edge
Into the blessings of insanity.
Let me show you the colors of my world.

 

 

 

RED
Red is the blood that runs down my wrists
As I experiment with my own mortality.
Pulsing with my heart's rhythm
It slides smoothly across my chilled skin
As I hold an Exacto in my hand
And savor the moment.

 

 

 

 

 

ORANGE
Orange is the crusted wax fruit
Retired to the recesses of cracked Fiestaware
Yet occasionally gnawed on by ignorant children.
All while the moist summer air hangs like a sheet
In a stale house where air-conditioning
Was banished years ago.

 

 

 

 

YELLOW
Yellow is the paper, faded and torn
Which sags from the walls of the dimly lit kitchen
While cigarette smoke overpowers the food
That burns slowly on an archaic stove.
Cracked and oily, rich with nicotine,
The ceiling embraces its fate.

 

 

 

 

 

GREEN
Green is the plant which survives in my room.
Nourished by Jack Daniels
And a few other ‘friends.'
It strives towards the sunlight of my only window,
But finds only thick black drapes
And a blank, brick wall.

 

 

 

 

 

BLUE
Blue are the bathroom curtains, faded and threadbare,
No longer able to protect the occupant
From peering, prying eyes.
The dirt-stained window, with its crust and cracks
Must suffice, to preserve the privacy
Of the ritual scene.

 

 

 

 

 

VIOLET
Violet are the shadows who presume to be friends
As they appear through the twilight
Needing companionship.
Intensely, we throw our lives away,
And we'll do it again tomorrow
Without a thought.

 

 

 

 

Now you've seen what I see;
The things which lock me to this world.
So, it's really no wonder
Why I am the way I am.
Do you know, do you understand
The colors of my world?

 

 

 

 

All poetry, stories, etc. ©2000 Miranda J. Hawkins. All rights reserved

 

 

 

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