Colour is the most important thing to me. Without colour I cannot see, to you all it is a word. To me, it is my breathe. I feel the air move past my face, I see it bend and flow with the light. Colour is not simply there, it is extraordinarily there.
Until this day and forever onwards a colour has followed me, tip toed behind me and whistled to itself. This colour does not exist in your books. It does ask to be labelled. IT WILL NOT STAND FOR THE IDEA THAT IT COULD BE MATERIALISED. It is purple in the cool blue light, orange in the raw fire of the drowning sun. It is green in the rainy city lights. A chocolate brown in the comfort of my bedroom.
This colour is not mine, I did not ask for it. I did not wish it upon myself nor others. This colour is her. The sweet smell and flowing love that is her hair. This is my beautiful girl.