TW: implied grooming
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He was a man of little colour,
He thrived in greys and blues,
He didn't care to do much about it.
Just as men like him would do.
She was merely a little girl,
All seven colours of the rainbow.
Any where she happened to go,
Bright yellows, greens, oranges and reds,
Were more than sure to follow.
One day they collided
No one could've guessed it,
The grey fought through her innocent heart,
Leaving her colours infected.
What could she do
to fix her colours?
She asked her mother,
"Pray tell."
"Oh honey,
How would I know what to do?
I've lost my colour as well."
BINABASA MO ANG
things that should've stayed in the drafts
PoetryMostly rants on day to day life from the perspective of a mentally ill teenager. TW: so so many Self harm, suicidal thoughts, alcohol, drugs, dark humour thrown around
