3rd December

I miss colours. I need colours. Everything is grey. Even me. My hands, my legs, everything. Grey. He’s grey too. But then He always was. A grey man in a grey van. At least I think it was grey. He was grey anyway. Grey skin, grey hair, grey eyes, grey clothes. Everything about Him was and still is grey. Grey, that’s all I’ve seen for 9 months. I don’t think I’d recognise colours now if I ever saw them again, and I probably never will, so I guess there’s no point in dwelling on it then, is there?