Poetry

Colour in White by Liz Yew

Every street walked and corner turned – 

The white lingering cologne and heavy perfume, 

A choking difference from natural sweat and concrete fumes. 

I flinch in my skin; 

Paint myself with foreign colours and crooked lines, 

Dressed in shirts and skirts I did not own. 

Until one day I look and see a stranger staring back – 

Hues of yellow and brown bleached away 

Suddenly it hits, 

And you recognise the growing manifestation – drowning and draining, 

Chipping off bits and pieces slowly 

And surely – you become less. 

Until it knocks you out cold – no room for judgement or mercy. 

Bleeding you out of the colours that

Once were yours.


Follow Liz on Instagram @lizyew.writes

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