Poets logo

how to view the world in colors that are not grey.

a poem about ebbing and flowing into who you are.

By alayna doyalPublished 3 years ago 1 min read
2
how to view the world in colors that are not grey.
Photo by Jeremy Perkins on Unsplash

under anesthesia,

amid all my amnesia,

i dream of tasting colors

in a world of synesthesia.

red looks like sandstone

as it rusts—from marigold

to crimson, merlot brick.

orange is apricot marmalade

and tangerine cider—

spiced and fireside.

beneath the medicinal spell,

i am four years old again and

my fingertips are stained from

the amaranthine of blueberries.

boysenberries. mulberries.

the more i mull over grape

jam, the less purple

—more blue—

i feel.

as real time passes,

the clock within my reveries

remains motionless, so when

i wake up and come to as eyelash

dewdrops wet my cheekbones—

i’m reminded that childhood

taught me how to view

the world in colors

that are not

grey.

upon awakening in the morning,

i feel safe and it dawns on

me that i do not mind

hospitals.

at least somebody is

caring about me.

for me.

someday other than today,

opening my eyes will feel

more like a revolution

and less like an act

of forced willpower.

until then,

it is now and

i cannot help

but wonder

how.

the neurosurgeon enters the room

as i begin re-entering reality

and gaze at the sunlight

pouring in like a

steady stream

of almost

but not

quite.

the diagnosis is hyperkinesia.

i glance at the freesias.

all i wanted was to

touch the u n

r e a c h a b l e.

sometimes,

in the haziness, i feel light

like white silk sheets in summer

—the absence of color.

other nights, when it’s pitch black,

i am part of the sky—absorbent

and polychromatic to the point of

adorning all shades of the rainbow

simultaneously.

the doctor asks me what love means

and i say, “unconditional ink.”

it’s not bright white light

and people’s abilities

to stay while my

true colors are

tucked

away.

rather,

it’s deep dark dusk

and the ability to trust

that you won’t view the tones

as something for you to hone.

instead, love lets me

simply be.

and who i am

is someone who tried

to minimize the way

i am all the colors

at once.

but now, i know

to let everything flow

and be as red orange

yellow green blue purple

pink as i want

to be.

slam poetry
2

About the Creator

alayna doyal

hi, i'm alayna.

i'm a poet ☽

Reader insights

Be the first to share your insights about this piece.

How does it work?

Add your insights

Comments

alayna doyal is not accepting comments at the moment

Want to show your support? Send them a one-off tip.

Find us on social media

Miscellaneous links

  • Explore
  • Contact
  • Privacy Policy
  • Terms of Use
  • Support

© 2024 Creatd, Inc. All Rights Reserved.