The color was orange when I was first inside.
Tiny, circling bursts of sound and suffocation.
Tailed by shreds of light, and dignity exploded on the ceiling.
I couldn't quite figure, but instinct and disjointed
bits of me
got through.
Meticulously ground to this point
Everything changed.
The pulse
the wave
the sense.
The point.
I was finally someone else.
I didn't know to embrace
or regret
so instead I ignored.
Every now and then the color was green
cool
forgiving
full of life, and love.
I can't remember the last time.
Or that time she demanded
on hate and pity.
Something dark.
And injured.
But I did, just the same.