Sweaty fingers crack against my black and white.
A heart in my head crashes against other thoughts.
Thump-Thump my beating strings that taste like red.
These perfect pictures; words filling my throat with peppermint.
Stuck in space, trying to detonate my dreams.
Floating on pink storm clouds.
This rubix cube is standing next to me.
A loving slap against my spaghetti bones.
Bombs explode with ash that is sugar sweet.
When I turn my hope on high, it returns as a dark brown crayon.
A shape of impossible, but feels like yellow.
On the edge of yellow is hope that smells like pain.