you are suppose to be good
and sometimes you are
(like Romeo's cotton boxers)
but sometimes you are so vast that I grow dizzy
sometimes you are lines that stretch out too far.
you are an empty page
that leaves my little heart broken and quiet.
you are walls that haven't been explored or claimed.
White, you make me curl up in loneliness
and I know that others have named you
the color of innocence
but to me innocence is Red and Blue and every other wild color.
and people call you purity
but you are cold to me, White,
you are cold to me.