The First Fifty Pages Of Me by Nailinthewall

Colours

The maroons are leaking away from the hate.

The teals are sinking on the concrete and left bare for us to see through the crevices beneath.

The edges of the light are black waves drowning out all the beauty around us.

The creams are ripping out of the sea like they're asleep and it's just in their dreams that they're murdering all of humanity.

The burgandys are making the waters tell tales.

The pinks are washing away our sins but there just isn't enough of them to go around.

Purples are rippling and rising from the frozen shores and making us want to breathe out our silenced screams.

Yellow is a fountain of obscenity and it's the only beauty around us.

Greys are begging the rivers to stop flowing and make our dreams come true but all that is left is a single reaction.

The peaches are pooling from the watery trees and  are making us cry and bleed but yet we can't even see.

The not-so-blue sky is dancing in the lulling breeze of a sea and making us unable to taste anything separately or get a taste of our harsh reality.

The colours float from the waters like people, wading through the lines of people and, get nowhere.

All this colour is blinding and deciding what we see. The colours are lying to me.