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Points 60
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Today we learn about colours


Forgetting the ghosts that I once belonged to,
I leave them in sunflower fields. Walking 20 miles south
From here, I realise the world is made of color. The river between
Grey and sunflower-yellow is thirty-six thousand feet deep; varying between
Colours of you and me.
Leaving the cemeteries of grey I find myself somewhere in-between dark and light~
No other colour can describe this; except maybe the world




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Interesting and surreal piece, @rida! I also like your poetic use of the squiggly line ~~
she/her




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Maybe what most people wanted wasn't immortality and fame, but the reassurance that their existence had meant something. No matter how long... or how brief. Maybe being eternal meant becoming a story worth telling.
— Roshani Chokshi, Aru Shah and the Nectar of Immortality