Life,  Writing

Words and Colors, Spilling

They spill around me…

onto the floor,

the table…

Words and colors.

Messages,

recognizable?

Maybe.

There are no

blank pages…

here.

No blank canvases.

Just words and colors…

spilling.

Tiny messages…

peeking out.

Screaming.

Whispering.

Laughing, even.

My soul speaks.

Can you hear her?

Do you care?

Maybe.

Or not.

But here’s the thing —

I do.

And that’s what matters…

now.

©Robin Le Roy-Kyle on Medium.com. 2021.

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