'It may be my imagination but the colors have started to blend creating a cozy blanket for when the night inspires me once again.'...yes, I do see the linking of your canters, within and without, where the time merges with the space and you walk in these spaces of time as your being imbibes these impressions.Interestingly, your observing self seems awake and active all the time.

"Black and white spills across my ceiling and all i may do is hide behind metaphors when they inspire me" - It seems odd how often we run from beauty, from inspiration. Our fears our so gripping they seem to close every door of opportunity, sometimes even making us believe that beauty is really ugliness, or that we can't reach, or don't deserve to be present before what inspires us. But your poem feels hopeful to me, it feels flowing and ends with color and warmth and reminds one that presence is all it takes, for the night will never cease to provide you with more chances to SEE as WHAT IS always is, "when the night inspires me once again". A beautiful poem indeed, that's what I saw. Great write! :-)