Where the Colors Won't Show | Teen Ink

Where the Colors Won't Show

December 10, 2008
By flyingplanes GOLD, Lumberton, New Jersey
flyingplanes GOLD, Lumberton, New Jersey
11 articles 0 photos 7 comments

Sunshine dissipates, tracing edges of a frame.
Fingering over posed faces, lips repeating a name.
A man and memory she can never let go.
That’s where the colors won’t show.

Cob webs strung across corners abandoned in haste.
Shadows leaking where the sun has been replaced.
She watches rain striking a clouded window.
That’s where the colors won’t show.

She was too shy to give him a smile,
Suggest that they might sit and talk a while.
He can’t really be expected to know.
That’s where the colors won’t show.

There’s a newspaper still on the front step,
Begging that hell’s the only place left
For the leaders of this world to go.
That’s where the colors won’t show.

He’ll call her late at night to hear her voice.
She whispers low, so her mom won’t hear the noise,
Willing the conversation to never close.
That’s where the colors won’t show.

They think she tries too hard, holding on.
Their insults designed to make her make up run
She’ll surrender in their presence, let tears flow.
That’s where the colors won’t show.

An empty staircase shelters a secret kiss.
Born of new love’s sweet innocence.
He promises not to say a word, turning to go.
That’s where the colors won’t show.

A heart shrouded, attempting to protect from break.
Scream like a fascist, they don’t care what you think.
A thousand different reasons they’ll never know.
That’s where the colors won’t show.

She should have guessed they were smart enough
To take the lies and unravel the strands she wound up.
She listened to him guess; then shut the door closed
That’s where the colors won’t show.

He’s standing in the arch of the door,
Tracing tiles on the floor.
Seeing his face in the hall makes her blue eyes glow.
That’s where the colors won’t show.

Love hanging from a single string.
Swinging like a pendulum, she returns what he brings.
Taking a leap to smash through a spider glassed window.
That’s where the colors won’t show.

An old picture dangling from brittle plaster.
She meant to take it down sometime last year.
A man and memory she can never let go.
That’s where the colors won’t show.



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