River. An indentity you try so hard to constrict within the societal norms, a thought you try to forget even when it keeps nagging you like a recurring nightmare, a half-sought story you abandon in fear of coming too close to reality.
Daisy. A gush of air that leaves you befuddled, a train of thought you can't quite catch on, a tingling of the wind chime that leaves you breathless, a philosophy you can't impose on your falsely opinionated mind.
Blue. An image of a paper town you saw once in your childhood, a song you can't sing along to, a little bird taking flight for the first time, a rainbow broken in places you can't fill up, a tawny twilight that urges you to get out of bed and go for a run.
Ruby. A scrap of paper that contains the love of a lost person, a word spoken in an empty room that comes out as a timid whisper, an oak tree under which you buried all your milk teeth, a leash that reminds you of the pupper your mother once had.
Sunny. A wish to take the blame for the spilled glass of milk by your younger sibling, a patch of soil in your garden that always looks a little damp, an old flower wedged between the pages of a sad paperback.
Black. A scream that always dies in your mind, a secret buried within the confines of the four walls of your local church, a letter you never posted and still wait for a response to, a polariod showing you and her underneath the same sky.
Smoke. An urge to cry in the middle of the day, a silent plea to the greater entity for a moment of quiet, a thunderstorm that has left your city wounded, a little boy hoping for his parents to wake up the next time his uncle touches him inappropriately.
White. A field of lavender you just ran the length of, a journal that has seen you go through your teen years, a corner of the local library where you always smile at, a moment in time you will never forget, a new day.