By Kristen H., TIWP Student

Lime green feels prickly.
It’s lighter than regular green in a candy-sweet, sickening way,
like recovering from a sickness but you’re not all the way better yet,
like your body forgot how to feel normal and picked something sour and airy instead.

My head feels very light and I can feel my pulse in my brain,
annoyingly thudding, like it’s knocking to be let out.
The window is open in my room, and the sun is out—no clouds.
Everything outside looks springy and happy,
that kind of careless happiness that belongs to light green things.

But my head keeps knocking anyway,
and my nose feels stuffy, like air is thicker than it should be.
The sunlight feels too bright, almost sharp,
and the breeze sways gently in a way that makes me feel worse.

I don’t feel fresh or new or better.
I feel lime green—
unfinished, a little too sweet,
kinda sour,
like something that’s supposed to be cheerful
but isn’t doing a very good job.