Colored my eyes often

since they were graying.

To be in denial is to be blind,

so I made sure to pick the most vibrant hue

and color outside the lines.

Colorful, distorted droplets of salt sometimes slid down

and the world would get blurry.

People urged me to stop writing

with my broken pencil.

Hands cupping my face,

they would look into my colorful eyes

that sparkled and shined

like shards of stained glass.

They would look at the injured paper

I had been writing on for the past decade