I see your colour, clear and bright,
A shade of yellow, full of light.
But when you speak, your colour’s bled,
Your sunny yellow turns to red.
Still you can call me colourblind,
For truth and sight feel misaligned.
Your words tell me you’re burning red,
But yellow lingers in my head.
I close my eyes to all you’ve said,
And paint you gold instead of red.
I guess it’s how I choose to survive,
To keep your old, bright light alive.
So I won’t acknowledge you have changed,
Or see your warmth grow cold and strange.
I will stay inside my mind,
Forever and always colourblind.
