none needed its for the hidden qualities contest [link]
the ss is by [link]

This is the last sunset I will ever see. I know this. So, i committed the colors to memory.

The pure orange sherbet hues melting onto a black horizon and merging with vermilion

streaks and subtle saffron yellows, in sync yet distinctly its own. It drowns momentarily

then lies flush against a cerulean backdrop. Merging and fading, re-arranging itself to its

own liking.


A breeze whips my hair into my face and murmurs in my ear; you're standing at the edge of

the world. In that instant I realize the accuracy of that comment. There are no children

playing, no pets whose names are being called. It is calm and silent. Yet, oddly unnerving,

for not even crickets chirp, nor birds sing. I am indeed solo standing at the edge of the

world; my world.

I run through overgrown fields of green, screaming at the top of my lungs and spinning until

I felt ill. Resting only momentarily before doing it again and turning cartwheels.

Oblivious to the sting of too-long blades of grass, gone into combatant mode against my
ankles.

Thinking only how ironic in moments of nothingness I am truly alive. I still stand and

breathe, and live.


Mesmerized by the sunset I still watch, with an upturned face. As the wind gusts around me

again, welcome to the edge of the world it rasps. As my sherbet sunset bleeds on the

horizon, the one cognitive thought in my head is the fact it is time to wake up. I am

merely an artist lost amidst her own canvas. I am only desperately wishing to get lost in
my creation.

Slowly replacing my paintbrushes and rinsing the palette, listening for my wind. Watching

with undisguised anguish as my sunset gradually flows down the drain. I recall how easy it

was to become cast away, amidst a sea of daydreams. These truths alone remain; A man is but

a man, a sunset is but a sunset, and you can't paint yourself a better life.