Bleached

My life is bleached.

Like the sun that fills in the gaps of shadows.

Like the white that covers blood-lust red.

Bleached like a woman’s hair in the summer.

Or sheets that lie on top of a bed.

 

The overpowering sensation of helplessness

Grows strong underneath the bleach-stained sun

When all these days spent in California

Lead you to everything, leave you with none

 

And as the sun overexposes

In the warmth that blisters my skin

As the white creeps into my eyes

I cannot let reason in

 

I do not know which way to go

In this hollowed bleach-stained land.

For it’s summertime in California,

filled with color, never bland

 

But just as light is far from power

Still it is blinding in its path

perhaps by being blinded

All the answers come to pass

 

So dear, sweet radiant light

Bleach this soul until it is clean

And when the shadows deepen

Take your time to purify me

 

Oh dear bleached white light

Save me from my own mistakes

And in these trials and failures

Allow another part of me to wake.

 

For my life is bleached

With the radiant light from above.

Come make my life the purest white

And smother me in love.

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