As life and death while neither truly works

a fear of death and a fear of life fuels my flame

the things I do don’t particularly interest me anymore

I feel like I’m slipping away.

Silenced colors will eventually fade.

If I were to not fear death, would I be able to live?

If I were to not fear life, would I be able to die?

Neither living or dying

mere existing

what existence is this?

to dream of colors that don’t exist

is to say to not dream at all.

But colors that don’t exist envelop us in comfort

and worry falls to all.