Black. The pit I teeter at the edge of. Emptiness. Dark expanse of despair with no way out, drawing me in.
Red. Red for danger, red for anger. Anger that seethes through my veins like molten lava. All consuming, passionate and deadly.
Taste. A bitter taste: salty, bilious, rancid; no amount of scrubbing can reduce it.
Hole. Where once there was something, now there is nothing. Bitter, thoughts. Negative. Slight decomposition around the edges.
Open. A door. I can exit if I want to?
Blue. Under the blue, the senses improve. Surprise, as I feel a smile.
Orange. Burning, bright sun. Caressing my skin until I feel alive again.
I walk onwards. I will find my path.