Colors come through differently when you live life like I do.
Blue is no longer like the sky when all of its drops of rain have fallen.
Blue isn’t a clear paint used to show a happy day.
Blue is dark like the night, suffocating all the light trying to come through.
Suffocating my light, although it still comes through:
faintly,
barely,
in shades of yellow.
Yellow is rare;
Yellow goes quickly;
Yellow is not bright, it is faded, like a dying sunflower.
I used to see a shade as bright as the sun,
so bright that it left floaters in my vision when I blinked—
fleeting spots, the color of roses, or at least the color roses should be.
Red comes to me hotter than before;
Red is anger at the fact that no one sees;
Red is anger at the fact that I have no reason to feel the way I do.
A life like mine is perfection.
I have planted strong roots through friends:
the stem of our connection used to be beautiful.
Green was bright, as the stem of a strong flower is;
Green could pick me up and make me feel whole again;
Green turned sickly, and began to wilt.
So, I guess I have not planted strong roots.
Most of them stay, and I cherish those with my entire being,
but I say bitter goodbyes to those who can’t handle my emotion that shows in everything I do.
Aero—a cool shade of blue that reminds me of my mother’s eyes—
now describes my clear tears in a perfect shade.
Aero is feeling too much for others to handle, and
Aero chased away my best connection.
The person who saw me for me:
or at least that’s what I thought.
I think quite a bit
to a point where one could say I overdo it.
I think there’s a color missing
a shade that shows me exactly who I want to be.
Pink is perfection;
Pink is before November 2017;
Pink is happiness;
Pink is love;
Pink is memories;
Pink is friends;
Pink is good;
Pink is everything that I don’t want to forget about my past self.
Everything I can’t forget about myself.
Makes sense, right?
A lot of things about me are falling into place:
why I can be so mean,
why I’m so emotional to the point where it’s annoying—
I’ll tell you what’s annoying—
feeling so many colors at once that everything goes dark
and numb.
Black is the color of hopelessness;
Black is feeling nothing and everything at the same time;
Black is knowing you need help, but not knowing how to ask for it.
I only see it on the bad days:
days of the past,
days I hope to never visit again,
and I don’t think I will.
My mind and my soul yearn for something else:
White is the color of peace.
It is not light or dark to me. White is just there
and that’s okay
because I see color differently.