Put on your red shoes and dance the blues

Blank Canvases are like mirrors, reflecting your soul. What do you see when you stare into one?

Mine visions are:

-The sweet smell of her hair. Jasmine and Sunshine.

-Warm, bony shoulders, pure white like the snow of December. Sulking and exhausted from the weight of the world.

-The cold on the tip of her ears. Slightly red in the cold breeze just like her cheeks as we walk the streets of Moscow.

-The dried, brown yellow autumn leaves she gathered, and let them fell down my head like a stream of regrets. The smell of earth and wood in each and every one.

-Xmases where I was sitting in the playground, looking at her still bright lit windows. She works hard for her future, deep into the night.

-Her voice. Firm, bell like ringing in the ears. But it is slowly fading.

-Brown eyes the color of milk tea, shine brightly into gold yellow in spring. So warm and passionate that they melt off the snow. And my heart.

-The Ferris wheel at the back of our house, slowly turning its last round at 12, and shut off its light. We sat there crying on the first night watching the light dies off.

-The sound of our empty fridge. It was our future that was always there. Empty. An ambient buzzing noise that is so empty it makes you go insane.

-Her breath in the -30 degree new year nights. The fireworks reflected in her eyes.

As long as there are canvases, there will be memories to paint, and colors to add as seasoning to life.
Paint life in one stroke. Don’t second guess, don’t repaint, don’t leave brush marks, use your tears to wet your brushes.

Author: Viet Nguyen

I thought what I had do was, I had pretend I was one of those Deaf Mutes

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