Purple tinged tangerines on summer days
crimson hues tainting this nighttime window
there are grey trees and paler seasons
in this odd little world
you open your eyes
hoping for wild colors and bizarre sights
hideous in their uniqueness
beautiful in their existence
grey and orange and red
live in this world as well
but they don’t bleed out of books
and crawl into forgotten corners
you crave darkness under the midday sun
the adrenaline leaving crystalline trails under your eyes
they wait, to sleep, to dream
of hedonian colors
the tragedy of seeing wonders inside your mind
lovely and terrible in their verbosity
but utterly lost to the world around you
the ones who look for transparent shades
in an opaque reality
but there are waves of blue
and the softest roses, making their way
towards gathering sea storms
they don’t look like the chaos you dream of
but like something intangible and enigmatic
lovely for their solidity
inside our human eyes.
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