black /blak/
noun.
the color of the world on days where it’s too much. the sound of silence when all you want to do is speak, staring too long to try to remember how anything feels. the color of never ending keys on a piano that remind you of his heart. ink splatters on old clothes, the text on forgotten books from times past. the color of his wings when you two flew up to the sun, but he let you fall into the sea. black is color you saw when you looked into his eyes and realized how foolish you were to have ever loved him.
white /(h)wīt/
noun.
the color of new beginnings, of scars beginning to heal over. the foam from the waves that crashed upon you over and over again, until they didn’t as much anymore. the color of the keys that made you forget, trying to remedy the broken parts of its player. the pages of the books that you read that made you dream again, hope again. the color of the shirt you wore when you first saw the boy. the innocence you see in little kids, reminding us all of how the world can still be good sometimes. the color you saw when you looked up at the boy that saved you. his hair so light, that sometimes you could’ve sworn you almost saw a halo. white is color of your wings when you realize that you can finally fly again, but this time without the fear of falling into the sea.
-b.f