Walking through those doors I’d only see gray.

Sitting at that table I’d only feel gray.

For years all I could be was gray.

The occasional sighting of bright colors like greens or pinks would surprise me,

But they would in time, fade into gray.

No person or thing ever stayed colorful, 

They would all fall victim to the dry tasting, humid gray around them.

That was, until I met you.

Your vibrant glowing pink in my gray little world stood out so much it scared me.

I avoided your loud colorful personality,

But eventually your pink started to grow on me.

As I became more attached to seeing your sweet color, it started to spread.

The pink turned other things into reds,

Reds and greens,

Green into purples,

And purple into yellows.

Your bright, strawberry scented pink alone,

Painted my world of gray into a warm, colorful canvas.

Occasionally the canvas will start to chip away and reveal the gray underneath,

But you never fail to put a fresh coat of color in the gray parts of the canvas.