there are parts to every person
that are more tended to
than
others....
parts that are caged,
parts that roam free,
parts that are in the light
and parts that are in the shadows.
sometimes they fight with one another,
sometimes they are harmonious.
i'm not sure these parts make up a
whole or that they are even meant
to....
because the imperfection of parts...
tended to and not....
these fragmented parts,
are our essential nature.
i think we are always incomplete.
to be whole,
means being unbroken,
being perfect...
something i know
i will never achieve.
it happens every year.
usually during the crappiest of all crappy winter days.....
they arrive.
the spring colors.
suddenly, the stores are full of
the perkiest of pinks,
the grassiest of greens,
the mints,
the salmons,
a perfect plethora of pantone prospects adorning every rack.
what do i do?
i fall in love.
and i buy....
i buy in a big way.
and then i put them in my closet
where they wait for warmer weather to arrive....
full of the prospects of sunshiney days and spring in my steps.
until i look at them and wonder......
why, pray tell, do i do this to myself?
because these colors were not meant for me
oh no......
on me?
the greens are ghastly.
the pinks look perfectly putrid....
the salmons......sickly.
i must learn to curtail my color conventions.
i vow not to pine for purple pants.