Don't call me beautiful

I'm anything but that

I’m a mess of colors

With black-bold standards

that will never make sense to

a small mind

I was created by

two nut-jobs who

didn’t know how to

handle a paintbrush

To be hung in the museum of

hearts

Being admired and frowned upon

and to be given meanings in different

people's lives

I stand out with my

bright colors

And my color changing

eyes could make you

feel like i could see

right inside your soul

Like could read

your life story

And a chill would

run down your spine

Afraid

Afraid that i could

grind up your bones

and get high off your faultlines

I say nothing

You tell me everything

Yet im silent

But so loud in color