Swatches of fuchsia
line hallways
made of tears
forgotten colors
tucked away
behind smiling faces
ridden with pain
memories of
a brilliant world
with blues
yellows
peeking through windows
filled with light
sparrows laughing
in meadows
filled with buttercups
that children use
to play pretend
hallowed halls
with nothing
for miles
except screams
and grey
sunlight
Flushed faces
talk to jittery hearts
about wishes
that will never
breathe
Slices of breath
struggle
to the surface
like butter knives
Long brown hair
tangled in the wind
has a mind of its own
deep blue eyes
smirk slyly
as laughter falls
from shy lips
watching moments fall
from windowsills