I want to have control of my life.
I want to be happy with myself.
My future is like a blank sketchbook.
There are simple colors to choice from.
Each colors can be mixed or be use solo.
The colors are created along the surface of life.
Little by little...
Sometimes we can see it is becoming,
but sometimes we see it so confusing.
At times I focus intensively at a corner
till I become frustrated without so much
of an approval outcome as I wanted.
There are times where I wish I could
tear apart the sheet to thousand of pieces.
To hide the pain or overwhelm emotions
I force it to become worse, the messier the better.
Till it become nothing but black mucky surface.
But no pain or emotions in sight.
But the black remains and becomes a reminder.
I often frown at the white pure surface ahead of me.
It is too clean, too much for me. It needs something!
I would quickly grab something red and slap it across the surface
as if trying to give it as much pain as I can accept
But it is not enough. It needs something; I need something!
AT the moment of panicking, I managed to step back and breathe.
Gasping for some air, trying to calm down and clear up the mind.
Blinking through her tears, she stares at her mess. Another mess.
How many clean sheets she has to go through, again and again
Till there is nothing left, till it is too late.
I sit down and refuse to move, and look mournfully at the mess.
