Saturated

Crimson is felt in compacted sand and hands on fire,

and Tangerine likes to buzz in the aimless empty spaces.

Mustard seed tends to be found in my exhaustion,

and hushed Mint is found in my relief.

Olive feelings fall into the overly ordinary,

and then Emerald is what it means to feel far.

Indigo weeps in longing, missing, wishing,

Cyan sings of revelling in the ability to forget.

Cerulean crawls out in my confusion,

and then sweet Lavender rushes forth when placating an illusion.

Periwinkle locks pinkies with mine when I think I’m in love,

and Violet shades have always joined me when I rolled my eyes at roses.

Magenta sits under all that isn’t real,

and then a whisper of Blush tells me it’s still okay even if everything isn’t.

They say we cannot think of a color we have never seen,

but I would vow I’ve felt more hues than I can dream to word.

Living in contrast and diving in vibrance,

I am saturated by living which is why I can’t help but be heard.