Elise in Beige

She wishes
She could tan
Beneath fluorescent
Lights.

The constant static
Far too soft,
The sterile air,
The cool cocoon
Bathed in beige
And calm yet morbid grey,

But neutral bland chromatics
Never fostered
Sprouting wings.
That process sounds too gory,
Filled with hurt.

She hates this
Fraudulently promising cage
But isn't quite convinced
A step away
Would lead to green
And indigo.
She's finished with
All pain
Forever.

She remains,
Longing for a window.

- 5/16/25

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