There is a liquid leaking
from the corners
of my broken windows.
Big drops all over
...
Although the book was closed,
you studied every little word on the cover.
You did not believe the bright colours,
nor the summary on the back.
...
I wonder how he feels, since he
never tells me. It's not that I ask him
first, he must have thought of me
differently
...
True Colour
There is a liquid leaking
from the corners
of my broken windows.
Big drops all over
the wall, washes away
its colour. No paint can hide
its true sight.
There, in the middle
of my rose-tinted
glasses, were cracks
as big as a
beaten softball,
who showed me grey.
There were you, standing
outside, on the other side
of my windows.
In grey I saw you standing
through the glass
without pink,
With a bat in your hand and
a softball in the other, you looked
at me. That's when I realized,
it was you, with a smile.
You broke my windows,
you let them leak,
Ruined my disguise,
because you said
it was okay