the color you once were

I am now pure and cleansed of my soul
and so unlike myself–
nothing but a patient in this
white,
painted world.
I see the plastic red and yellow; they now appear too bright.
Purpose incentives pain and through my broken
pieces, I
surrender, by nature’s last
breath–
never subject to the loud
nature I once possessed.

Heart flowing out;
blood of red
blossoms.
The deafening white peace seems dead.

When one’s
nightmare, now starts from the opening
of eyes.

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