I see myself differently.
I see the bruises, the flaws, the irregularities, the deficiencies and weaknesses dancing in livid gray on my soul.
I see flaws on my skin, the dark circles around my eyes, the first wrinkles that pucker my face in tiny fine folds.
As the colours fade away, I see me, with all emotions and all reason on a puzzle so easy to read that the missing pieces don't seem to count.
As the colours fade away, I remain a countour, defining all that I was, all that I am, all that I'll ever be.
And it's safe to bound myself to shapes and limits, in the brighter and darker shades that reveal me now.