A lighter shade of gray

It's a shades of gray kind of day. Much more than a day. Gray encompasses so much, but you can't quite put your finger on it. There's a cloudy gray, slate gray, barely gray almost white gray, poofy kitty tail gray, storm cloud gray, bored gray, hopeless gray, comforting gray like the low rolling clouds on a rainy day that tell you it's acceptable to stay in and feel scared.

Gray can be so different, yet still be gray. That's why it's so hard to pin down. It's changing. It's flat; it has depth. Thoughts can skid off the hard surface or lodge in a thick, cloudy gray whirlwind. It makes for a difficult description. I hear myself describing it, trying to make sense of it, letting people understand. That's when the second cut comes, of course. Well, that sounds simple. Incompetent at sorting out a non-threatening, simple-sounding wisp of gray smoke. Tied up in her own thoughts. Cold gray of iron chains. Hard gray of a heart-shaped padlock. Rough gray of the surrounding stones. Limitless gray where the churning storm waters meet the horizon of tumbling gray sky.

Gray hairs popping up on my own head. Noncommittal gray. Not a color. Not here, always here.