Day 37 of 44 — I’m preparing to ride a train of thoughts into a space of code. And rules by which I’ll only act in ‘good’ feeling. Like the breaths I take there — I’m grateful for these words I share in peaceful mode. Unpredictably I write as our stories unfold. Bringing another reader to a space they momentarily don’t see told.

Photo by Jimmy Chang on Unsplash

Sunday, December 8, 2019

This is the color I become when needing to succeed.

The color I woke up in I trust was fair — I believe.

Colors are vibrations like the emotions we seek.

The color I am is not the same when weak.

A mellow mood for the others who assume I’m rude.

My dog watches the bums like she would any other dude.

Our vibrations have a color we can’t see.

If I could teach the world I’d allow my colors to blind the sky — breathe.

Because it isn’t blue; nor is the sun yellow you foo’…

It’s all subjective, contextual and relative.

My love is protective.

A meaning for the respective.

First 44 and missing a 4.

An angel I patiently wait for.

The color of love has no hue.

It’s the smile you submerge beneath you.

Waiting to be one with you.

Here it is via emoji if words don’t do it for you…😊

At least I answered a thought I first couldn’t prove to you.


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Born and raised in Portland, Oregon, Budd writes to encourage readers to explore the depths of their inner ocean, an unexplored self, because it's fun once you get through the emotional part... “The world around us is our vehicle, what you'll read is how I digest it.” -Budd

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