Picture Perfect

They’re the paint needed for my masterpiece

I am the artist placing them side by side

In a not so perfect order.

Autumn is pastel rose

Beautiful and perfect with every flaw.

Kissed by years of hurtful words

She wears a serene mask,

And her edges are blurred from secrets she keeps.

Then there’s Dillon, funny and outgoing,

But his edges are razor blades slicing through my canvas

Releasing carmine red

That both scares and thrills me as he tells me his past.

 

I’ve come to know them both so quickly,  

From late night talks and laughs shared.

I realize now that they’re what was missing

In this wonderful thing called my crazy artistic life.