The Romantic Particles of Perception

The colors of the sky Fill your atmosphere to the brim A pleasant surprise, a painful sin Ink splotch-turned thoughts Examine your psyche Unsure, bemused, unable to break free Everything so horribly typical Distorts itself Varnished in your brain, on a shelf Why does it please To the point of pain To contemplate everything, without refrain The weather breaks my thoughts Like a wave I’m a single pebble, I cannot be saved Sitting alone, cracked open Like a single pistachio, broken I am more whole, full of feelings unspoken