Prism

A Taytay attempt at trying to describe the many parts of a relationship with colors.

Black. 
The remnants of my heart before you, as dark as ink that slowly seeped into my soul, turning me as bitter as the coffee I drink. 

Yellow. 
The small rays of light that slowly beamed through the cracks of despair, as you beamed at me from across the table, albeit shyly. 

Pink. 
The colour of my cheeks that I deny every time I talk about you, unable to wipe the child-like grin on my face as I recall the things you say to me in secret and say about me in public. 

Green. 
The peace I feel every time I awaken at an hour ungodly to me, yet am satiated because your face is next to mine, softly wishing me Good Morning, which is in essence the best thing about the morning. 

Orange. 
My small streaks of irrational jealousy at women on the receiving end of heart emojis that I want to claim as mine, but knowing deep down that a heart is only claimed when given willingly, not demanded. 

Red. 
My rage as we hit a wall of miscommunication, suddenly unable to comprehend each other and hiding behind passive aggressive comments and really loud music. 

Blue.
The calm as you douse my fire with your patience and steely perseverance, paired with your gentle reassurances that snap me out of my insanity, reminding me not to be such a piece of shit. 

White. 
The purity of our love, beneath my insecurities and your nihilism, as we, despite ourselves, believe in something good again. 

- SB
9.49am, 21st September 2016
Ghetto HQ


SB is a conflicted soul of sorts, who is mad enough to go chase after what she really loves as opposed to conform to society and her mother's idea of a successful person. She prays she makes it in life, because she will not be able to tolerate the nagging that would follow if she doesn't. Her inspiration comes from everything around her, as well as made up situations in her head. Good luck distinguishing between the two. 

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