ORANGE IS THE COLOR OF PAIN

Blue cats and chartreuse kittens are
careening through my mind.

My ears have seen the truth and now
my nose is going blind.

I sense yellow P's, purple fives
and bitter smelling sounds.

I'm hearing colors, tasting shapes,
perception's out of bounds.

I have turquoise Thursdays, orange pain
and brain lobes with no fences.

I taste your voice and see your scent,
I'm multiplexing senses.

It's half past oval, sounding cold,
the wind's a dreadful hue.

I'd shape some answers for you but
I'm feeling rather blue.




If you have Synesthesia or are familiar with the symptoms,

this poem actually makes sense... I have found a way to write

nonsense that isn't. Some of the lines in the poem are from

comments made by people who have Synesthesia.

"Orange is my default color for pain", said one. Another one

says she has "turqoise thursdays". There are musicians who

see musical notes in different