🔵 By James Kelley. Photo by lauragrafie.
A picture is worth a thousand words… so the axiom goes. But which words does it paint? I try to paint a picture of sunshine and happiness, even when life is dark and gray. I pick up the brush of vibrant pink or red, yet the bristles only leave ebony.
Everything I touch is tinged with darkness. My pain inside, can hardly bear. For a future is just not there. The gentle blue ocean picture in my mind flows out as a painting of dark, harsh, churning waves, crashing against lighthouse’s shore. Dark clouds appear across my canvas, I cannot erase, I cannot clear.
The lighthouse of my mind’s eye comes to life as a centuries-old dark, cracked, brick spire. Its dark edifies and turrets poke up at the raging sky. While its ropes and railings change with each brushstroke. The sunshine of my mind, turns into lightning strikes spanning the pages of my life.. Could and dreary, I grow weary. I dip the brush to splash a dash of sea foam down the rocky shore.
My life’s only sign of colour, the crimson red of pain. I look at my hand, is that a cut, suffered via the paper? Nay, nor did a razor inflict. The burgundy vision, I have caused, it’s the blood of my victims and past friends.
If my picture is worth a thousand words, they would be echoes of pain, suffering, betrayal, and love lost. My deepest desires lie atop the blackened spire, locked away until the day I find the key. Some spell to swell the heart that dwells in the Spire’s Keep.