Colours
Yellow is electric. It stings. It's like a stream of needles through my body, pricking me everywhere, pushing me to act, do, scream, kick, punch. It's like having molten lightning for blood. It's both exciting and painful. It makes your breath short and your temper shorter.
Red is powerful, slow, calming. Red is a steady, warm flame. It fills you up. It becomes you. It makes you see and feel things you didn't know you could see and feel, things you didn't know were there at all. With red, the whole world becomes deeper, and without it, it's like everything is a bit less real, forever.
Blue is purposeful, sharp. Blue is a blade with the thinnest edge, makes you into a sword ready to cut and kill, efficiently, quickly, without making a mess. Blue is also imperfect. Incomplete. The sword has no guard or hilt.
None of them can help me now. At the edge of existence, at the limit of my strength. On a stage suspended in emptiness, everything at stake, nothing to lose, I grasp calm, emptiness, finality.
At the end of all things, I reach out, and I grasp white.