White moves in a graceful twirl up, down, and around like ribbon.

The sadness of puppies makes me feel like there is a storm inside my heart.

At the edge of silver is soft like aluminum, brittle.

The swirl of loneliness sounds like silence, I try to fill the void with my own sound.

A baby’s cry is bright green yearning as much attention as other colors.

The hiding place of rain shivers underneath my jacket, goosebumps all over.

The antonym of pink is the happiness I know deep down isn’t there, it’s a mask.

If you turn hope on high, you’ll see profound disappointment and discouragement.

When you tiptoe through the Valley of Happiness, you might find you’ll have to step on a few eggshells to get what you want.

If you jump into the present, you’ll land on the anxiety and stress I feel.