Silent colors swaying away,
Like a blade that cuts the stars.
A far reach,
Yet close enough to blind.

The emotional synesthesia of my heart and mind,
Conspire to light the fires beneath,
And set myself ablaze on the flameless pyre.

I stare at the wares that I have created,
As I continue the debate with me, myself, and I.

Ticking away.
The timeless eyes.
Bear witness.
To the lightless skies.

The silent colors.
That only I can see.
These synesthetic linguistics.
That fall away.
Onto the synthetic pages.
To which you read.