White, when I look around all I see is the absence of colour, even in your eyes.
The prison gates, with bars across it, allow only blue liquid to enter,
yet your presence has slithered in, unmistakable like the chlorine in these waters.
Why did you creep through those bars? Why did you drain me of my warmth?
The bouncy, impenetrable plastic I sit on reminds me of your skin
and even as you ambushed me, flipping me off from my float,
laughter crawled up my throat, because to me it was silly, not cruel.
The intoxicating water infiltrates my mouth and nose and now
the lingering scent of that comfort and warmth have dissolved in my system.
Today, even as I stand in the shade of shelter, a bystander to your happiness, the streaks of
shadows on my face despite my constant rubbing, the flecks of golden, youthful years rippling in
the waters smell like dark chocolate. The splashing of waters echoes my cries of sorrow and
cheer, in a symphonic melody, your ambush being the push I needed, like the blow Simba
received before becoming king. Appreciation bubbles in me because the theme park finally
stands as it is, a vision of hindsight and strength.