Gray

Fri, 07/18/2014 - 23:40 -- Saabby

My head is an old fashioned movie.

Black and White. 

Right and Wrong. 

I compartmentalize.

What is acceptable?

What is not?

Packed away in boxes

memories hidden

into the closet of

gray.

What makes me tick?

Memories,

the sneaky ones

they slink under closet doors and fill

minds,

worlds,

with gray.

When sorting no longer works.

This isn't Black or White.

There's no excuses.

What is justifiable?

What is unforgivable?

My mind cannot compute

I'm drowning in gray.

 

 

 

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