Photo by engin akyurt on Unsplash
Who am I?
A definition not found in words,
though,
I search putting ink to paper.
Perhaps an ever-shifting, effervescent shade of
blue.
Colour of skies and choppy seas,
calm and storm.
But no,
that’s not quite right.
I rarely feel like blue.
Most change from day to day.
In a colour, in a word.
A painting made of growth, and struggle
in place of brushstrokes.
Who am I?
The question rings today,
and everyday
with a step into the next awakening
learning my true colours,
shift.
While it seems this synesthesia
puts soul to sight,
I cannot define.
Though I strive.
Ever searching.
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