If rainbows were people,
might we build them from concrete
to light up the skies in the middle of our nights
and greet the rains by the light suites.
Some people are moon-like:
they feed off the lights of others.
They drain and tear like parasites
Until dim-light-sunshine covers.
If sparks and charge were nature,
they'd run through light's veins -
and my moonlight might capture
stolen colours in my rains.
YOU ARE READING
Coloratura
PoetryPoems I wrote as a mentally ill adolescent with nothing to do but write and cry sometimes.
