The fountain.

Colors

Colors, colors, colors.

I hate them.

They force me to stand up, even if I can't.

The weight of colors, their hypnosis. The colors won't let me move.

They want me to become one of them, they want me to throw away my grey shades. They want me to be ripped apart from their colorful blades.

I can't do this anymore.

They want me to kill myself.

Everyday my eyes are tearing up, my limbs are shaking, the colors are driving me insane.

The rainbow.

The shining sun.

The green grass and blue water.

The butterfly.

I kill it.

I rip it's wings off.

I make a coat out of them.

I hide inside the rainbow.

But inside, I'm still black and white. I can never belong in here. But I can't stand out.

Cause they would find me.