Take out your crayon,
And color my world in hues of blue,
Take out your pencil,
And sketch this minute in our life,
For it will be our last together,
Take out your chalk,
And draw the outlines,
Around the pieces of my heart,
Dead, broken, and scattered,
Take out your charcoal,
And shade my heart in black and gray,
The only colors I recognize in this moment,
Take out your pen,
And finalize the sketch you've made,
In violent, harsh strokes,
The story of our days,
Take out your paintbrush,
And your palette of colors,
And paint yourself, to hide from the world,
From your wrong,
Take out your quill,
Dip it in ink, and sign this,
Your creation, your masterpiece,
Aren't you proud?
Display it, for all to see, on show,
My severed heart, in the spotlight,
Depicted now, in full color,
And your indifference,
Clearly visible,
Through my veil of tears and ink,
Spilling onto the page,
Like words spewed forth from a typewriter,
Forming this poem,
For you and your inability to care.