PLEASE DON'T SAY YOU LOVE ME

FREEDOM

perhaps it's not the way she craves love or affliction - or any affectivity for that matter. maybe it's the thought - the appetite of her colorless imagination being filled with saturated color that excites her. 
the way she can almost taste the colors on the tip of her wet tongue, almost as if she's been tasting such firmament her whole life: like cinnamon being stuck to your throat. life always throwing punches, the pain becomes recognizable and anything different fills her lungs with roses; bittersweet suffocation. each color has their own analogue, making their way to her mind and she yearns for it. 
for she has been been feeling the same shade for too long. the blandness and distastefulness makes her angry, her heart fills with red. 
however, she knows even if her tongue is dry and her throat becomes closed - those colors shan't come close. those colors - forbidden in her life. too used to being fed white and black, actual color becomes alarming. once color is added to a black and white painting, it has become ruined. shattered for they do not belong together. this life will never end. for this girl is thirsty, silently crying out - wanting to taste color, but too scared. her life is black and white, any kaleidoscopic is verboten