I ran out of crayons, may I use yours?

the difference in it all is that

even on your darkest of days

I still painted you bright yellow in my mind

you mistook black crayons for light blue

smeared the black over the bolded guided lines

while I sat there and tried to erase

I kept erasing

or at least tried to

but I couldn’t keep up

as your black lines started to become

bigger… thicker …. wider

eventually it consumed the whole page

my light blue crayon broke in half

each piece of it laying on different ends of the paper

trying to still balance what’s left

a fully blacked out page laid in front of us

we stared at it

we stared at it for so long trying to justify what just happened

or at least I did

because underneath all of the black

there was light blue

waiting to shine through to you

but it never made its way from underneath

leaving it to be unrecognizable

unidentifiable

unknown

and eventually to the naked eye

it quickly vanished

no matter how hard it tried

I taped my crayon together

and began drawing again

and again

and again

trying to brighten up the page

but there was only so much I could do

with what little room you gave