Colors Stories

I feel them begin in my spine traveling upSometimes black and sometimes brightly huedDays cold, my soul safely shriveled in its cupI need you more than ever to keep me gluedFeet planted, purple painted toes dug into the earthI feel, hear the wind blow through trees bleak, so coldMy mind often like a ship out at sea, it just needs a berthSome say I was born this way, a soul that was already oldYour rough hand holding mine,...

You're a chameleon changing your spotsSaying the words you think should be heardPleasing every one and no one, your heart rotsThat's fine, of course, whatever, how absurdTaking on hues and tones of those around youBlending, never calling attention your wayLosing yourself or never knowing whoNothing changed until that autumn colored dayWho are you? Whomever you want, I can be her and I doResponding, not now, no one ever se...