Being indecisive is a swirl of colors.
It smells like a food court.
It tastes like hot peppers.
It sounds like someone screaming that I can’t help.
It feels like a cobra slithering down my back.
Pain is blood red.
It smells like poison right beneath my nose.
It tastes like thorns.
It sounds like fingernails running down a chalkboard.
It feels like a burning fire on my skin.
Loneliness is gloomy gray.
It smells like something dead.
It tastes like water.
It sounds like silence.
It makes you feel unloved.
Lee Burke González
Red Anvil, 2017
Oil pastel on paper