My Synesthesia

The M in my name glows ruby red

Like lukewarm berries in a birthday pie

Ominously quarterly

Dandelion and cobalt mark twenty-five years in the sky

And so I cry

Tears of colour

From the pain of getting older

Vivid decorations that drip from my eye

Pink is the number of chairs around the table

Seven is the shade of the trees outside

Purple is the hue of pragmatic celebrations

While yellow lights twinkle in the shape of a Y

Blue is the music, fluid and sparkling

Like opalescent easter eggs that melt into clouds

Black is the rain as it begins to patter

Washing away the sounds

Of my rainbow.