Black

My pen touches the paper,

And the black ink bleeds out,

Not the color of the ocean,

Not washed out yellow,

Not the obnoxious Barbie Doll pink,

But Black.

A color most people despise.

The color before you add any sweet, white cream into black coffee.

The color that smells like you just burnt bread in a toaster.

The color that sounds like ravens flapping wings.

Or the pitter-patter of rain slapping against gravel on a rainy day. 

The color of the sky when darkness swallows the sun.

Or the color that feels like weights pulling your eyelids down. 

Black, black, and more black.

A bottomless hole, 

Where anything is possible. 

My words bleed out…