The flag of malachite-

green and white

is pinned on my wall.

I go ahead and give you a call.

I listen to your silence,

still there,

still here.

Anticipating

nothing.

Because that's all that ever happens these days.

I wanted peace anyways.

Living on a clean slate,

with not much to write about at all.

It's all so dull and I can't wait

for the end results to roll the ball.

They said that it'll be like confetti, colourful.

But it's more like a kind of daily beige, forgettable.

I barely feel alive at all

and the sky can't even rain properly.

Still living on this blue ball,

I'd rather die than conform and live sensibly.

Maybe I should sleep and wait for the new day.

Maybe I should waste the day away.

Maybe I should have more patience and stay.

Maybe I should let the world paint me grey.

But I'm more than grey,

I'm green.

I'm a yellow you've never seen.

I'm a sky blue day.

I'm a neon pink screen.

I'm a purple day in May.

I'm an orange tangerine.

I'm a red that evokes dismay.

I'm a silver in a shiny kind of way.

I'm a gold like sandy Egypt cream.

But not on this day.

Today,

the clouds have become rain

that have washed my colours away.

With the tears of humanity,

in thoughtless disarray.

Today I am washed away.

︎︎∞︎︎∞︎︎∞︎︎∞︎︎

ద ద 𖦊 ꪉ 𐀔 𐃸 ద 𖦊 ʊ

༒ ༒ ༒ ༒ . . ༒ . . ༒

༒ ༒ ᜊ ༒ ༒ ༒

༒ ༒ ༒

༒ ༒ ༒ . . ༒

༒ ༒ ༒ . . ༒

ద ༒

༒ . ༒

༒ . . ᰔ

༒

༒