I am yellow
Like your cigarette-stained fingertips
That roam my skin as if it belongs to you

I am marred
By the ink that drips on my surface
Like mascara tracks 
Against her picture perfect complexion

I am indiscernible
Blurred like crossed lines 
And sight obscured by tears

I am greyscale
Against the scream
Of her tangerine pout

I am shrouded
Halation hides the crooked-toothed smile
Of a face best forgotten

I am captured
Peg me up in the dark room
An image of still-life

Still living