When I think of what has passed,
I see a white light.
Not the type that takes you to enlightenment.
Not the kind that regresses you to a utopian Innocence.
The whiteness of the light is from mixing.
Mixing of all colours that will ever be,
that presently exist
or have existed in my life.
White has never had an existence of its own.
It has no self.
White and Black are colours that are produced from the mix of all colours- I was told.
But I don’t see blackness.
I see White.
Maybe it’s an explosion.
An implosion perhaps?
A collision of emotions
that I have experienced,
am experiencing
or probably will experience.
(The future could be in my unconscious).
The colours could be my universe.
That universe which has now
Folded in.
My experiences have torn me apart.
From the inside, I have collapsed.
All the colours have grown blurry,
have merged into themselves.
There is no Self anymore.
There is only White.
White- uncorrupted and yet blotched.
Bleached with colours,
I have none.
