She woke up every day with colors in her head.
Visions of blue and green, pink and purple, and pounding blood red.
The girl tried to capture the fleeting moment, to pin it down in her mind,
But the colors faded to gray as she lifted herself out of bed and threw her covers behind.
She walked around from place to place,
never keeping track of time or remembering anyone's face.
Running only in search of the color that she'd lost,
and willing to find it at any cost.
Her search became muddled with darkness and longing.
The girl's only vice: not belonging.
One day she was granted freedom with a flashlight,
and found her way out with ink as black as night.
Color started to bloom within her, giving her an otherworldly sheen.
Buds of yellow and orange, indigo and violet, and glimmering aquamarine.
She found them when she took pen to paper,
and from there became a word shaker.