if only thoughts
were a composition
of small dark lines,
maybe i could trace the space
that grows and leaves us jaded.
if only it was that easy
to wash out greys,
or paint dotted lines
just so it won't be left dull,
white and silent.
if only i could paint,
and if only it could be painted,
i might have saved us
from this maddening blankness.
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