Paint Me a Surface

Paint me my past with your pride.

Thus all brushes put aside.

In all the warmest colours,

pick me a hot cold hue,

called, "You."

What then and where would I,

fit in a shape

or a size,

that contemplate

and complements all those cold damp,

and warmth saturation of "Us."

I will make of this and that never tells my life,

would it be ignored,

Actually I am ignored. Brushed off and put aside.

Shelved and filed away, and felt if you just want me for a minute of a moment.

After which kept with lock and key.