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Synesthesia
September 28, 2023
Hopelessness is black.
Black and spiraling,
Down, down, down.
But the light at the end shines clearly.
It smells fresh, like just bloomed flowers.
If you turn hope on high, you’ll see the world through a yellow haze.
Sharp edges become rounded,
Dark colors fade to light,
Sour smells become sweet,
Everything becomes calm,
Soft.
© Anonymous
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