Sparkatale

If people left little marks on my skin

Colored by the impact they made,

I’d be the canvas

And you’d be the paint

Each color would be unique:

Bright red and light blues,

Dull whites and bright yellows

Pinks tinged with black 

And big bold purples tuned to you

But the biggest marks aren’t left on top.

No, they’re the ones deep deep bellow.

They are things said too loud

And things never said at all

These marks can’t be seen

They’re marks on my mind

So don’t bother trying. 

There’s no looking glass to find

These marks have lasting impressions

They find ways to be seen.

Leaking into each color

Tainting each hue.

They spill into each one

Leaving long reddish marks

Or big black dots

To stamp out the light

But these marks threaten

They want to control me

They want to be 

The only marks I see

I won’t let them win

I’ll fight till the end

Until the only marks I see

Are the important ones to me