Why can’t I just see all the colors that you see?

The world was never this chaotic, so my words

— entangled and couldn’t make a direct statement.

Kringggg! Kringggg! I sighed deeply in spirit as I stretch my arms to reach my buzzing alarm
clock alongside my bed. Here goes another day of my ash-colored world. I couldn’t remember
waking up because of the sunlight trying to bypass my room’s window glasses. Every morning,
there’s no Sun’s gleaming flares hitting my eyelids, nor even could I see the shades on every day
I sip a cup of 3-in-1 coffee.

As I was walking down the streets— it’s bloom but there were no pink tints on every cherry
blossom trees I see, nor even could I see the colors of the freed birds flying through the skies.

You see, my world…

is in black and white.

Although I am not blaming my light or photoreceptors why couldn’t it perceive colors. It’s like—
behold, I live in empty voids and holes, or we could say between light and dark.

I couldn’t see the rainbows after the rain.

I couldn’t see the rainbow colors of the fireworks on every festival I got to be invited by my past
friends—

Not my alarm clock,

Not my bed,
Not the Sun’s flares,
Not my coffee’s shades—

Not the cherry blossoms;

Then I walked back home after I lurked around the city—

Not the Sun setting due west, kissing the seas’ silver linings.

Not the streetlights,

Not the cars’ head-and-backlights,
Not the roads’ lines.

Then I got home… no colors for today.

I remember never gazing through the dazzling skies every night—

Not the moonlight nor the stars,

Not every dinner dish I get to eat… alone.

No colors for today,

And maybe never again.

Monochromatic | 070220