Painted grey over the bubblegum pink walls,
the color still bleeding through.
The color of our laughter.
The color of our tears.
The color of your reflection in the mirror.
The color of our secrets folded into corners.
The color in which I couldn't keep.
Now those walls only hold silence,
refusing to be forgotten.
The sun comes up and its shine reflects off these walls painted grey,
but I still see the pink return, on the walls that won't erase.