The girl was grey
Not the fifty shades of grey kind
A storm cloud, thunder without lightning and lightning without thunder
She listened to instrumentals instead of lyrics to channel her inner poetry she would never write
She’d get high and talk about it all the time
She wouldn’t listen to that artist - they were too ‘mainstream’
She’d say she hates men but she did everything to get his attention
But desperation was her favourite scent so it didn’t matter if she reeked of it.
She got a boyfriend - she thought that would fix it
She would reference him like an overused citation
Constantly trying to meet the word count of a never-ending essay
Filling in the gaps between herself and everything else
Her relationship- low budget like the films she loved to watch and rate
Grey, a cheap landlord painting over the cracks of a borrowed personality
How edgy, funny but not really
And red just wasn’t her colour
She could try and be every colour of the rainbow but all she would ever be was grey.
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