Swatches of fuchsia

line hallways

made of tears

forgotten colors

tucked away

behind smiling faces

ridden with pain

memories of

a brilliant world

with blues

yellows

peeking through windows

filled with light

sparrows laughing

in meadows

filled with buttercups

that children use

to play pretend

hallowed halls

with nothing

for miles

except screams

and grey

sunlight

Flushed faces

talk to jittery hearts

about wishes

that will never

breathe

Slices of breath

struggle

to the surface

like butter knives

Long brown hair

tangled in the wind

has a mind of its own

deep blue eyes

smirk slyly

as laughter falls

from shy lips

watching moments fall

from windowsills