Her favorite color is black,

but her life is red like the phoenix as it rises from the pain it left behind.

 Her aesthetic is grey,

 but when others describe her,

they think blue.

She wants to be yellow like the sun on a crisp autumn day,

but when she smiles people see orange,

she can’t escape the red.

Her shadow is green like spring-time,

but her reflection is purple.

Her words are bubbled in gold that only she can see.

She fell in love with silver,

she runs from pink,

but her favorite color is black.

4 thoughts on “Colors

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