LXXXIV | Something Grey

❦

I've set up a new easel
by the window.

Sorted out a box of paints.

I make a new palette
(can't find the other one).

Today,

I'll paint Tammie's
eyes right.

I start mixing
colours
into grey paint.

The empty canvas

is now full of

wrong grey eyes.

❦

What should I do?
I ask her.

I'm really sorry.

Tammie's usual smile
doesn't make sense to me.

She continues

tying knots
in my long hair.

I want her
to yell at me,

tell me how badly it hurt,
tell me I got what I deserve,

tell me it makes her feel better

to know
I suffered after that.

I want her

to blame me,
to scold me,

then tell me

what I can do

to make things
go back

to the way they were.

It's all over.
We're here now.

And that hurts

even more.

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