Colors Are Starting To Show.

I look at these small empty hands filled with tears.

Would you hold them gently when I'm okay;

Stop thinking of a stranger like this...

You could never see this, never want this.

Who am I even, to this world of endless grey?

I mean nothing to no one, a ghost, a ghost.

You drift in like a weightless touch,

And my bones drip into my veins.

A small hug with a selfless laugh, I feel so much...

I feel so much better...

And the momentary warmth I could get lost in.

Why don't you run?...