How This TBI Victim Journeyed Into Simple Colors

Imagine a world where colors combine like shattered glass of a broken kaleidoscope. Imagine a world that was mine.

Everywhere I turned,
I saw a crimson cloud.
Red was an apple hanging from a tree,
A shirt plastered on a clammy figure.
Red were cheeks flushed in noonday’s blistering heat,
A siren flashing on the street,
A bird soaring through the sky,
A finger cut by book’s loose pages.
Red was my brain
Sizzling in the fiery sun.
Every time I think of moving,
I see the color red.

I see green.
Bubbling in a store.
Shampoo’s bright bottle,
Nails popping colors.
Green as grass,
And trees against a summer sky,
That highlight doors
With shelves that hang,
And hold lit signs.
A child’s shoes running by,
A candle on a rack.
Every time I see a store,
I see the color green.

Yellow. Blue.
Colors swirl and combine.
Yellow as sun that
Burns my eyes
And blisters my brain
On summer’s hot day.
Yellow is a shirt worn
On vacation
Where blue jeans were
My husband’s choice.
A rose on the seat,
A hat upon our heads.
I think of vacation and
See yellow and blue.

Rose and teal,
Aqua and brick.
Beads and baubles,
Paints and brushes.
Flashing colors
On a child’s toy.
A television glare,
A computer screen,
Everywhere I turn
My colors combine.

And in the middle
My world is gray.

Now imagine a world void of color, and, according to some, the world of a minimalist. (I don’t know if that’s true or not.)

I only know I can’t imagine my world without reds and greens, purples and pinks. I can’t imagine life with no color. Color enhances our existence, magnifies our experiences. It brings our world life. Unless you’re a TBI victim, then colors can turn everything upside down.

I used to love color, bright teal pillows and blue scarves strewn across a sofa, a pretty picture of a red rose on a wall. Greens and yellows and orange-colored chairs. I loved it all, and still do. Just not at the same time, and not in my home. Not since my brain injury.

Today I live in a world of beige, with hints of nature in the middle. In my dining room, a lone green vase sits on a creamy wooden table, the signature of nature at its finest. My stove holds a teapot highlighted by a tan-colored wall, a splash of sunshine on a dreary day. Red and blues in a Paris setting, pictures that show life in the home, travel, adventure.

I still have colors, but they are simple and few. Well-chosen, with meaning and life. My colors in a world of cream.

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