Acrylic paint is the white-out
to my sentiments
when tears
can't wash away
the indelible ink
that encloses me in solitude
Sometimes I paint sunsets
with blue the color of his eyes,
and orange the color
of my anger as
it fades
subject to my forgiveness,
the purple clouds
that are my desolation,
and I always strive
to mix that shade of pink
that is my happiness
I'd like to ask everyone
where they go on Saturday nights
and why I am never invited?
Why do I feel invisible?
I paint it all away
94 floors above the world
in a mass of familiar faces,
still,
I felt alone
but it didn't matter
Before me was
a spectrum of brilliance
the colors of perfect
engulfed the sky
Next Saturday night,
the image of that Chicago sunset
invites my loneliness
to be encrypted
in its fiery vividness
Everywhere I go,
there will always be a sunset

 
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