I remember my childhood in hues.

First it was green.

I discovered nature and it swallowed me whole.

I bit into a leaf once,
A bitter crunch I will never forget.

I imagine myself in the pines,
And I want to sleep there.

I want to be decorated in flowers and dirt.


Then it was orange.

I saw the sun as a beacon.

It raised high in the air like a balloon I set free once.

I loved it when it set,
And then it stole my eyes forever.


Then it was purple.

I lost myself to the rain.

I write poetry on the moon,
And live beneath the stars.

I am a lonely dreamer.

I wake up with bruises,
And my body is made of shadows and lines.

I trace them,
And enjoy the feeling of ink on my skin.

My thoughts defy gravity,
And levitate my mind.

I am an Indigo child.

I am made of hues.

Someday I want to float,
And I will wrap myself in white.