I am melting into a pool of my own flesh
Slowly bleeding into the background
Disappearing from the colors
I am grey

A monotonous life, a tedious death
A slow and steady, accepted torture
Whipped into shape by the blackening machine
I am grey

I am a cubicle, I am grey
I am a name tag, I am grey
I am a number, I am grey
I don't want to be grey

Protruding now from my flat surfaced life
There's a reason it's called relief
I've yanked the connecting wires
I am blue.

I can now smell the gasoline
I can touch the cold hard plastic
I can see the injustice
I am red.

I am alive. I am yellow.
I am in love. I am pink.
I am happy. I am green.
I am.