White washed

White washed walls
And white washed face
Bright feelings here
Felt out of place.
She felt things that were
Ashen,
Grey,
It felt like
That was the one way,
To feel within these walls so tall
So tall – but hardly there at all,
So faded, jaded, pale and thin,
And feather light,
But sharp as pins.
The walls a prison for her mind
Where only thoughts pure white could find
A way to surface,
Grey and strong
The brighter thoughts did not belong.

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