Blurred blurb blue

Talking was such a relief. I come back, still no one is here.

Do you remember? Can you think back to the greens?

Once in awhile, everyone just seems so fast, she always seems so distant and I always feel forgotten. Invisible. Clear. Making out just a structure. A silhouette surrounded by this constant swirl of color. Sharp colors, not the ones that paint the mountains or the blue feather sky, but the stinging, biting, twisting colors that bend your retina into a convex half-bowl. Maybe I want that, maybe I want to see my neurons--jolting and bursting and burning. My mind is a blur. Maybe tommorow (today) will make it come together. Put the pieces into a box. Shake the box--maybe twice. Throw it in the air. Then maybe, maybe-- the pieces will connect into your picture perfect blue.