The Color White: A Poem for the 9s

If I were a color

I would be white.

But the question is –

Am I surface

Or am I light?

The presence or absence

of color?

A blank slate –

Or waves in need of a prism

for sight?

Am I everything?

Or nothing at all…

You can tell me anything,

Your thoughts are safe with me-

I won’t argue or disagree.

Bounce your photons off of me

And see what you want to see.

I’ll be what you want me to be.

Or will I?

Sometimes I feel like a ghost –

Removed- drifting through Reality

Moving through solid things untouched

And unable to touch what’s around me.

Watching with curious disinterest

As the living move by me.

Thinking it all seems absurd –

But jealous of the colors.

I want to be real,

To feel…

I’m a sleepwalker

Let me wake up.

I’m tired of bending

Of always pretending…

A chameleon in search

Of her resting color –

White.