Can you imagine a colour between pink and green?
Orange hair and freckles
Turned to dust
The dream stops dead in its tracks, an unforgiving sin.
I am 16 again, no older no younger, that time I first began to lose naivety,
where we are so young and feeble
Until the very end
I have written in the passive tense
For the last time
I call this yellow, bittersweet optimism
That I can look up to the sky for
But never had in my back pocket
It lives above me and calls my name sometimes,
As if to say, well done, you made it
The stripes on my school tie and blazer stitched on my skin
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About the Creator
SJ Oliver
www.Instagram.com/myliberalpony
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