"colourblind" poems
Our every word that comes out
has the potential to **** when
your seemingly fragile but villainous
lips caresses my weaponed tongue
encouraging the venomous noise to be
reborn again and again.
Soft yet viscious touch.
I demand for more.
I urge for attention.
Patience is running thin!
I never even looked away from the
light in your eyes
but you were watching my entire flesh
burn and rot in the colours you gave me.
Dead.
When you left, all went dark
for the light in your eyes were
fires that burned too bright
and couldn't last.
It was then
when I was standing all alone
in the black hole you helped me create,
the one that ****** away everything I loved,
I realized that I was colourblind,
that your touch and your words
were bleach that sunk into my core,
leaving me only in black and white.
Aug 21, 2017
Aug 21, 2017 at 12:09 PM UTC
Roses are red,
violets are blue,
but according to what I learned in science about how light works...
That's not really true...
You see, when light hits something,
say a leaf, it looks green.
But in reality it's every colour but the one you see.
Roses are green
Violets are green
The amount of vivid colours in this garden made me throw up.
Roses are red,
violets are red,
I lit my garden on fire.
Roses are blue
Violets are red
What are colours again?
Roses are red,
violets are red,
someone killed my cat.
Roses are yellow,
Violets are purple,
I think I might be colourblind.
Roses are grey,
Violets are also grey,
woof.
Roses are dead.
Violets are dead.
I'm a horrible gardener...
My name is Dave,
Roses are Paul,
It hurt my head,
when I walked into that wall.
Mar 7, 2018
Mar 7, 2018 at 11:10 AM UTC
colourblind
to traffic lights
but I know how they're
supposed to look
I walk along
a thinning kerb
frequently falling
stumbling along
nothing stops me
I stay on the edge
this line between safety
and imminent death
Jan 27, 2018
Jan 27, 2018 at 9:08 PM UTC
recipes and bookmarks
in strawberry are falling,
stains upon my fingertips
grasp colourblind for
reds and yellows and pinks
and all they find is dust,
people, just falling away,
crumbling inescapably,
coming apart in my hands, just
cracking, like mirrors,
and all they do is stare,
stare straight at me as they
dissolve like sugar. they don't
stay together, no matter
how much I want them to.
people cannot stay together.
it seems that we're all breaking
at different speeds, and I might
be broken tomorrow, and he
could be next week, and her,
just dust in the cracks, human
skin in the still air, floating
aimlessly until we're
****** up by the hoover
and quietly disposed of.
May 20, 2022
May 20, 2022 at 8:08 PM UTC
I went to my eye doctor
And told him I was unstable.
He gawked at me from across the table
Thankfully he tested me
For otherwise I couldn't see
The light in life
Or colours of the trees.
You see, my broken heart was very unkind
Causing me to go colourblind
Jan 3, 2015
Jan 3, 2015 at 2:20 AM UTC
and making me want to die was something you were always good at.
not in a bad way
because for someone who has been suicidal since age 11,
that means you made me feel something.
feeling something has been a problem of mine for a while now
i either feel it all or nothing
and my therapist tells me that's
"black and white thinking"
and i tell her
"no, it's realistic"
and she laughs and tells me i must be colourblind
but the world has so many different tones of grey
and i tell her i know
i just can't see them yet
and she sends me home with a worksheet to fill out
she says bring it back tomorrow for our next session
but the worksheet asks me questions i don't have the answer to
"what's your favourite shade of grey"
almost arbitrary
could be written off
but i feel the breath catching in my throat
because i don't think about grey anymore
grey reminds me of the colour in your eyes
a colour chart that ranges from silver lining
to solitaire
you've ran off again
and i have to be honest
i'm glad that when
you left
you left
me colourblind
because i can't see grey without thinking of you
and i can't see your note so it's another night of feeling nothing
feeling something
feeling it all
Dec 20, 2017
Dec 20, 2017 at 1:09 AM UTC
Splinters, blisters.
Losers, winners.
Saints and sinners.
"Come in for dinner" s
It's where we learned to socialise.
Our very own sovereign land
zero politics
and conflicts always solved
hand to hand.
Loud junctions juxtaposed
against our little corner of paradise
motorists peering in when they stop at that red light.
Ringing on doorbells, buzzing on intercoms
The anticipation
to hear whether your friend was home or not.
Colourblind kids with the most vivid sight.
Retrieving footballs under parked cars
was the extent of our plights.
I didn't know where the world would take us
or the type of people it would make us,
but something I learned from a young age
is that the rest of the world isn't like
Gooseacre.
Jul 29, 2023
Jul 29, 2023 at 12:24 PM UTC
breathing quickening, pillow over the head, eyes open, brain dead
alive yet dead
black wings, pretty eyes, thick thighs, wide cheeky smiles, can chuck out people's lungs for soft words in return
hardened, dark, dusty, wrapped in shiny black clothes with secrets, scars and threads
brain so colourful will get colourblind soon
hands catching gentle water kisses, losers they are
failing to gravity, failing
put the feet on the floor, forgot to tell--shit
gravity they call
hot, hot, cold, cold, cold, cold
volcanic, explosive, misguided conversations, orange fingertips, blue knuckles, purple lips, green heart and round hips
Sep 4, 2020
Sep 4, 2020 at 1:48 PM UTC
They say roses are red
and violets are blue
But what if I'm colour blind?
What if roses are blue
and violets are red
What if the grass is grey and the sun is black?
What If your love is fake?
You're a mistake.
But wait
Don't hesitate
To take your blue roses
and your red violets
with you
And give them to the next girl in line at the flower shop
Let's hope she's not colour blind too
Nov 28, 2013
Nov 28, 2013 at 10:44 AM UTC
I know that the
grass is green and
sun red, but sometimes
yellow like dandelions,
and the earth is brown
just like trunks of trees.
I know the skies
are painted in blues
that eventually fade
into mauve, at some point
coalescing into the seas
and limpid waters of
sun-kissed beaches, where
strange exotic fruits would
entice with violets and amaranths
redolent of a night on
some far island, stood
beneath the stars whilst
they shine white like...
a million ways out.
Each one a brush,
showing me the palette.
But everything just looks
grey and dark and
black.
Sep 21, 2016
Sep 21, 2016 at 1:06 PM UTC
Tell me I’m not stupid for allowing myself to feel,
searching out for the next wound before letting the former heal,
I’ve been convincing myself that the invisible path is real,
but it’s not wide enough for two; one can stand and one can kneel.
If there’s anything in this world that tightens my chest,
it’s the moment I am strangled by vulnerability.
I keep it chained away to the very best,
to the very best of all my abilities.
Take all those thrown away phrases
and piece them back together to hit my ears
it’s funny how the long silence still amazes,
amazes me after all these quiet years.
Are you Sonic the hedgehog,
‘cause this is a chaos emerald.
Wipe away the tears to see the fog,
my world shakes when once it trembled.
I’ve got an easy road ahead of me
where the path could be so easy,
but I’m drawn to walk into the sea,
I wish that instinctive pull would leave me.
We humans are such destructive creatures
we turn soil to scorched earth with just one touch.
It’s the curse of emotions and all it features,
makes us decline a cast and accept a crutch.
We fall prey to our monsters like a disease,
do I pick life support or a clean cut cure?
A solid steel spine or weak and shaking knees?
Toxic lungs or a gasp of air too pure?
Should I swallow this gulp of mundane routine
conform and erase all individuality?
The white picket fence in photographs is so pristine
but it’s covered in dust and mold the naked eye can’t see.
My storybook ending is incomplete
as I didn’t much care for the ending.
I traded in tragedy instead of something sweet,
‘cause I’ve never been so good at pretending.
All along there are holes both in the souls and plot,
and I wish to roll but can’t afford the toll as empty hands are all I got
Nov 17, 2018
Nov 17, 2018 at 1:20 PM UTC
vacancy, let me in
i'm drowning in the holes you filled
vacancy, let me in
the sunset doesn't warm my skin
ocean sky, motel room five
my car's banged up, parked in the drive
she's a little rusty but she's still a sweet ride
come jump in the passenger side
one for just tonight, for old time's sake
i miss you so much it's impossible to take
a poem once taught me what it's like to be heartbroken
ne'er reall' believed it 'til those little words were spoken
are you smiling at the sunrise
the way you did with me?
does he drown in your eyes
instead of looking at the sea?
vacancy, let me in
i'm drowning in the holes you filled
vanacy, let me in
the sunset doesn't warm my skin
my hands are cold without yours to hold
suddenly i'm colourblind without you in my world
there's so little beauty without you here to smile
please just let me stay for a little while
vacancy, let me in
vacancy, let me in
autumn leaves fall, but i don't jump in the piles
doesn't cross my mind; i'm thinkin' 'bout the miles
the miles between you and me
i'm the blade of grass at the bottom of your tree
your roots are buried deep, deep in my heart
as you reach into the clouds like a work of art
maybe i'd be jealous if you didn't look so good
but i'm just staring at the leaves thinking, "would've, should've, could"
is he smiling at the sunrise
the way i did with you?
are you looking at the sea
feeling his eyes on you?
vacancy, let me in
i'm drowning in the holes you filled
vanacy, let me in
the sunset doesn't warm my skin
my hands are cold without yours to hold
suddenly i'm colourblind without you in my world
i promise if you'd let me, by your side i'd grow old
just a look from you and i'm weak, i fold
vacancy, let me in
vacancy, let me in
vacancy, let me in
i'm drowning in the holes you filled
vacancy, let me in
the sunset doesn't warm my skin
May 25, 2017
May 25, 2017 at 7:13 AM UTC
Blood rushing like wild crazed dogs
to the surface of my skin.
Placing a crimson attitude onto my face,
and a trembling hurricane to my voice.
The oxygen runs thin from my atmosphere,
is this real, or is this outer space?
Canines of the blackest exposure make their way
from my head, down my spine, through my extremities, to my feet.
Crushing eyes from around push me outwards
until I can no longer see what I'm running from.
Screeching, mocking barks echo from within
as prey is made of my insides.
Beneath the supernovas of happiness past
alone I await for the chimes of twelve.
I feel the hounds push against my skin once more,
they have not been fed for a while now.
The time has arrived and yet my sanity still has not;
shadows surround me and make it hard to breathe.
Laughter of hyenas, cries of bloodhounds, howls of wolves,
all disturb what is left of me right to the core.
Colourblind, yet with an eyesight set on the brightest hue of fire,
mongrels of most devilish influence impatiently scratch and claw.
Opening their kennels they climb over each other in a frenzy
down the road of scarlet.
Red sky at night, shepherd's delight? Well then, red sky in the morning
is a sign that the herding dogs from Hell shall give no warning.
Sep 27, 2014
Sep 27, 2014 at 9:37 AM UTC
There's some lessons to learn, but I can only teach so much,
resentment will cause you to burn, so to anger please never clutch.
It will take up room in your brain, and make your eyes seem hollow,
it'll cause your heart to drain and soon your soul will follow.
Here is a tired line, a real used up remark,
but the stars can only shine when the sky is truly dark.
You can only feel good after you've felt so incredibly low,
you'd climb out if you could, your strength isn't just for show.
Do not seek out only wealth,
it will not buy you a life to live,
focus more so on your health,
and the cures Mother Nature can give.
Every object will become broken and will only create waste,
the real gifts are the ones spoken, with words that are truth based.
Always show love to your mother,
'cause you'll miss her badly when she's gone,
and look to a stranger like a brother,
and appreciate the dusk as if it were dawn.
There's some lessons to learn,
but there's just too many to say,
and some with mistakes you'll earn,
and some you'll realize another day.
Always find ways to expand your mind,
never stop seeking the truth,
and look at the world as if colourblind,
and please don't waste your precious youth.
Oct 29, 2017
Oct 29, 2017 at 2:47 AM UTC
Souls collapsed in a darkness that blanketed the starless sky,
Giving up on humans that sold us life’s biggest lie.
Everyone loved exploring the sun when it was out,
but when darkness settled in, their minds grew in doubt;
No one wants to swim the waves, when jaws came out to play.
Everyone falls in love with rainbows,
we are all colourblind that’s the way love goes.
Love left her once but she’d imagine it over and over again,
contaminated her brood and they declared her insane.
She scribbled a few tattoos that symbolised the love she has tasted,
but they only spoke half the story of her love gone wasted.
Dead clouds painted on a wall at night,
she illuminated flaws in the daylight.
Her darkness was worth exploring,
her tear-tainted eyes daren’t ignoring.
They spoke of her in past tense,
she wrote blurred lines in all defence.
With dry cheeks in the summer sun,
she cried blood until there was none.
Little cotton puffs painted in silver outline,
she smudged colours onto clouds that died in a line.
How it played out in real life versus how it danced in her head,
her love would never return back from the dead.
Apr 14, 2017
Apr 14, 2017 at 2:11 AM UTC
Life is black and white
With a bit of grey.
This world which I see is very dull.
I try to see
The in-between
But I can't
Seem to free
Myself from the
Black, white and grey
That I see
Sep 12, 2017
Sep 12, 2017 at 12:55 PM UTC
You never know what your last meeting will be
With you it was nice,
We talked about silly things and the struggles we share-
The things that made us bond in the first place
We talked about the world, our gods, our eyes, everything
We talked about the way we things look to us
The fact we seemed to be colourblind in a world of spectre
And we said our goodbyes
And that was that.
So long, old friend
Have a nice day
Jan 5, 2016
Jan 5, 2016 at 11:18 AM UTC
I tell myself I’m no longer going to care
my brain, soul and heart are checking out today,
but it doesn’t matter because no one is there,
no one came and no one will ever stay.
If someone needs to reassure you you matter,
it’s probably because they show you that you actually don’t.
There’s so many choices but they always pick the latter,
and they promise to fix things but they actually won’t.
I found something that’s true,
it’s common from coast to coast,
that the ones who say they’ll never hurt you,
are the ones who do it the most.
I promise myself that I am done
that each day marks the start of a new life,
but the battle’s fought and you’ve already won
and I’m left covered in the blood of my strife.
If someone needs to say they care about you,
it’s probably because they never actually show it.
‘Cause I’m holding a white flag that turned blue,
and it’s waving only cause they blow it.
I found something that’s true,
it’s wisdom I care not to boast,
but the ones who promise never to dessert you,
are the ones who do it the most.
I found something that’s true,
it’s common from coast to coast,
that the ones who say they’ll never hurt you,
are the ones who do it the most.
My walls were always tall
and impossible to breach
but the only wrecking ball
was a lesson I could now teach.
I left a small crack on the side
hoping someone would make it in,
and when they did, I denied
they were ever there to begin.
I want to be wrong,
I want to be reassured,
that I am actually strong
and that my skin was never disturbed.
I found something that’s true,
I’ll raise a glass to this toast.
The ones who say they’ll never break you
are the ones who do it most.
I found something that’s true,
it’s common from coast to coast,
that the ones who say they’ll never hurt you,
are the ones who do it the most.
Aug 14, 2018
Aug 14, 2018 at 12:35 PM UTC
I used to be able to tell you everything
I used to be able to be myself
Now I am struggling to let you in
Now I feel like we´re both someone else
This year has been like a rollercoaster ride
So many lows, so many highs
I've tried to put our differences aside
Just so I wouldn't have to say goodbye
You used to laugh at my jokes
You used to come when I needed you the most
I didn't see the fire through the smoke
You didn't notice I was just a ghost
This time I can´t read your mind
It's been ten seconds, but it seems like an age
It's like painting the rainbow colourblind
How did you end up on a different page?
I used to be able to tell you everything
I used to know you loved me more than words
Now I'm struggling to feel a thing
Still missing us really hurts
26. Februar 2018
Feb 26, 2018
Feb 26, 2018 at 5:53 PM UTC
Strange how things are twisted,
Made better or happier
Like a girl who thought her life
Was crumbling. Her
Mind a whirlpool of lies
Inside of a hurricane of torment and insanity.
Her sleepless nights are simply
Airplanes that cannot fly.
But they are beautiful.
Bright yellow birds with broken wings and
Arrows through their eyes
Fly from sight.
I can relate. The urge and incessant need to run,
The cage stands around me, pillars of a ballroom
with no space to dance. The invisible song echoing.
My mind is a place of blazing meteors
And barren deserts,
Only occupied by an occasional mirage
That screams, “I’ve found something!”
The sound burns my throat, the voice of someone else in my body.
And suddenly I was weightless,
Barely a cloud
Near the ground, obstructing the
Paths that my eyes wander down.
Demonstrated by demons
And the flames flavoured
Like chocolate and ghost peppers.
Burning blisters on the insides of
My teeth, spreading through my bones
As a parasite would slither
Down my throat.
The trees and water signifying my survival
grows. A paradise in the eyes of a starved kitten
Lacking its milk from a mother flattened on the side of the road.
But the possibility disappears
As I walk, run, fall, cuss, crawl closer to my destination,
Forever doomed to walk among the shadows and blackness
Of the sky. Colourblind. I wander and trip over cracks in the
Sidewalk as my mother's back cracks in half like a twig,
It’s not my fault! I am still lost!
Or maybe I have been found. A picture, solid and graphic
I am here. This wasteland could be my home, my fragmented reality.
The tunnels deep in the blackened sand are the
Corridors of a haunted house, ghosts
Of long lost stories whispering sweet nothings
In my disjointed ear. I do not want to listen.
“Welcome home.”
Sep 23, 2015
Sep 23, 2015 at 9:04 AM UTC
As I slide on through the wet pavement,
the puddles don't vibrate or shake.
The rain doesn't stall, the drops continue their fall,
each splash pushes my cracks to break.
As I sit under a dark blanket of stars,
I reach out into only empty air.
No one passes by, I don't catch a single eye,
I'm plagued and cursed but can't bring myself to care.
A reward for my lost mind,
a rainbow for the colourblind,
emptiness fills to the core.
Hectic routine clearly outlined,
lip bit and my teeth grind,
I've been hiding in a metaphor.
While I sail through the sky with no safety net,
no bird seems worried for my form,
they don't even blink, they just watch on as I sink,
and they're ready and anxious for my body to swarm.
I always was known as a storm.
A reward for my lost mind,
a rainbow for the colourblind,
emptiness fills to the core.
The sun never showed or shined,
it was stuck, chained in a bind,
I've been hiding in a metaphor.
Once walked along each path
with only untied shoes,
and I felt heartbreak's wrath,
and the old lovers blues,
got the brittle in each bone
and my spine's growing weak,
in the end we all die alone,
but I witnessed a smile in each beak.
A reward for my lost mind,
a rainbow for the colourblind,
emptiness fills to the core.
A mute that never signed,
A soul too late to find,
I've been hiding in a metaphor.
Into the shadows I blend,
never to see light again,
I've been holding doors to my metaphors for you.
Into the shadows I blend,
one day the dark will be a trend,
I've been holding doors, hands covered in sores for you.
Oh I was on fire that night,
now the stars blur in my sight,
I've been holding doors to my metaphors for you.
You know I'm here just like I was then,
I will be there when you come again,
I've been dying and crying on hardwood floors for you.
There's no simile to describe me,
no comparing or analogy,
just one white blank page.
There's no simile to describe me,
no imagery or allegory,
just one lonely cage.
May 18, 2018
May 18, 2018 at 12:05 PM UTC
An itch of an inch – scratching to reach that place we once
walked; it was almost the measure of love; with elevating
conversations that led to a level of trust. Now wearing linen
divorce clothes, to separate the time that wore us down; as I
carried a smile in a frown; as we all plant a seed of respect we
have for others, hoping in due time it flourishes.
But trust me, winter is loveless – summer is the state of your
heart, where the sun still longs to shine even when it’s hidden
behind the clouds. Love is needless, to those who only respond
by the own feelings; looking for someone just to entertain them,
by only giving them a good feeling.
As all my bones break in despair; at the sound of the skeletons,
I must break in my closet – my soul shakes like the trees caught
in a storm; with electric branches. I’ve been struck down; made
to be someone with no passion, no meaning, or digression.
Passive-aggressive – only out of annoyance; for an inch of my
life, revolves around entertaining people who show pieces of
their true colours, and still expect me to act colourblind.
_How they offend my sight!_
Mar 31, 2025
Mar 31, 2025 at 2:58 PM UTC
I'm told I don't see your true colors, I see you through rose coloured glasses.
I try to convince them that they don’t know the person I have grown to love.
The only person I’m fooling is myself.
Feb 2, 2019
Feb 2, 2019 at 8:24 PM UTC
Let me change the colours to your tune,
i’m blue but who knew - colourblind kind.
Your kindness hides the shades of gray,
no-one knows who you are in your film noir phase.
I don’t mind if your mind changes in a different way to cope with the day, who i am to say whats wrong when you follow the moon to the stars to find who you are.
but tell me the truth tomorrow,
our time is borrowed from a universal feeling that keeps chipping away until theres nothing else to say!
That **** Philosophy;
It’s taken away minds like mine before.
Yours is yours and that is fine, but i’m inclined to believe in the things I see in my dreams, defining my days meaning and the ghosts of the past, forgotten memories and moments we can never look past.
Take me back to the time we made love in the trust of foreign objects and the affectionate conquests,
I can’t test myself within the confinements of invisible lines.
Take a step back to look past the facts and believe in the fairy tale you told me so very well -
it only came true when you kissed me without the contract that came with it.
I maintain my integrity but theres nothing left of me but my reflections familiar.
Who am i? To hide my racing heart in sombre tones,
umbrellas shade my fleeting mind and bruised brain, time and time again and forevermore, I hope.
Can you cope with capital, pretty - that city steals your identity if you can’t breathe without resuscitation.
but the thought of the situation makes my heart beat; discreetly.
Skipping as we count down the days.
Sep 21, 2015
Sep 21, 2015 at 5:44 AM UTC