Colors.
There is one poem I know backwards and forwards and if I wanted to I could probably learn in a different language if I really wanted to this is how it goes:
My skin is sort of brownish
Pinkish yellowish white.
My eyes are greyish blueish green,
But I'm told they look orange in the night.
My hair is a reddish blondish brown,
But it's silver when it's wet.
And all of the colors I am inside
Have not been invented yet.
I like to think that Shel Silverstein wrote that with me in mind because I feel like if I could see color, if I could see in general. I would feel like this.
YOU ARE READING
im•per•cep•tive
Cerita PendekShe's been blind since birth, bitter since 13, and scared since she was 6. It's amazing what you can remember when you can't see. But then again, some things you would rather want not see anyways. Mature themes. Read at your own risk. BOOK ONE OF '...
