Life is a parade.
A line of plastic smiles,
One after another.
The more they turn to me.
The less real I become.
I’m fading slowly,
Colours bleeding out,
All that’s left is blue.
Falling into your eyes,
Until even that can’t save me.
So I fade.
Let go of the colours that bleed so urgently.
I turn my face inwards,
Stick on my plastic smile,
And join the parade.
Endlessly searching for the next one to break out of line.