Pink on brown,
big circles that shimmered like
raindrops in puddles, or
when my tears splashed.
Yellow and green was just not my colour.
What was in you to, dress me like wallpaper?
Purple and blue squares as
sharp as your tongue.
I felt each prick with your icy glare.
Little things to please you as hopeless as my attire.
Was I really that bad, or just another layer of your life to be peeled away and discarded when you tired of my monotony?
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