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The Feeling of Gray

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I am gray.

I am
tired
and
quiet
and
neutral.

My shirt
is
gray,
my mind
is
gray.

No
feeling
is
about me.

I am too mixed up,
the colours
all blending
together
until you can't tell the
blues
from the
pinks
from the
yellows.


All
I
know
is
that
I
am
tired.

Tired of
not knowing,
not knowing,
not knowing.



I am the gray of
uncertainty,
mashed
somewhere
in
between.


I am
unsure,
unsure,
unsure.




I am
shrouded
in gray,
all
wrapped up.


It
billows
around me,
this
suffocating,
stifling,
shameful
gray.


It
d r a g s,
pulls,
entices,
until I can no longer tell
UP from down,
left from right.

It
pushes,
pins,
presses
until we become one,
the gray and I.

Until
I begin to
fall,
f-f-falter,
f a d e a w a
y.



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