Stains on the Rim

I poured all that I am into a bucket of paint just to watch the colors mix. As I saw my identity twirl around in swirls of blue and gray, with hints of red and black, I began to wonder where the rest of me was. Where was the yellow? The green? The paint grew thicker, the shades turned darker, and I began to melt down the sides as the bucket overflowed. It then occurred to me that there was simply no room for those missing colors. Feet pressed, fists clenched, I dumped my flaws into the creek to watch them drown. Thinking the time had finally come to fill the bucket with colors of my liking, I noticed stains on the rim. I scraped at them, but they remained. Struggling to remove them, I dipped my pail into the creek. Having done so, water rushed in... And with it, came paint.