Brush Stroke To Uniqueness

If my mind be painted in colors borrowed, would it be red? Rusted in brown, or maybe instead, an indigo streak? Depending upon the source of inspiration, and the song on the radio at the time of connection... I keep coming back to sea green, or the blue of underwater murals at 3ft tall of childhood, eyes wide in fickle, transient hazel absorbing each moment, be it safe or unstable categorizing each scent and each color each love and each valor each crisp Autumn, Summer in vats of brain paint to be later unlidded and splashed with insignias of every person and place and event that ever touched corneas innocent, bent on absorption. If my mind be painted, I think it be green like the moment I'm lucid before I dip dreams and hang them to dry in the gallery "Mind's Eye" and push to wake up to connect, signify every sensory path that I've traveled before to traipse them again and still come back for more. I'm a stickler for art and with your canvas blank my sweet innocent dear, with each word that you hear you will brush stroke your way to uniqueness.