My life is a box of assorted Crayola Crayons.
Who I want to be, what I want to be, is up to the colors.

Picking up the red crayon first to start the painting of my life. Scribbling fear and danger, the emotional power of red spilling the angry energy that comes from beneath me.

What is behind my anguish?

It’s my courage, my love, and my passion. All bundled up under the color of determination. It overtakes the fired mean drawing, but the portrait of who I am isn’t done yet.

Yellow, yellow, yellow. It calls to me to be picked up. Reluctantly, I pick it up, wondering what it holds for me.

Sickness. Why choose such a color that puts me through so much misery? My hands press hard against the crisp paper, squishing the tip, not wanting this ugly color to mess up what I want my life to be.

My initial pessimism doesn’t come through to the drawing. Yellow; cheerful, happiness, bringing back the memories of where everything is of joyous energy. It brings a sense of fresh to the paper; every day is a new day. No need to dwell on the past, just focus. Focus on the future, nothing else.

Back in the box goes yellow, and out comes blue. Away with the bad senses, in with the good. Loyalty, wisdom, and confidence. .

The powerful stride of the color makes me smile. I’m strong inside, and I should never forget that. My potential, is never ending. Confidence level high? Check. Wisdom in mind? Check. Loyalty to friends and family? Check.

Every part of me, every emotion complete.
To pick and choose is where I have to be careful, one wrong stroke could be a wrong path I pick.
Though each color, each emotion, might not be wanted, they’re all needed to complete the picture.
The portrait of my life.