i told him it felt more like a collision, a crash, a head on car wreck
this is beautiful this is bold this is material this is gold
my synesthesia is not like yours not like the 70,000 others who claim to live with my burden not like the 61 different types you can conjure up from web.md
my synesthesia is not AFI’s interpretation, these colors are not a love song
my synesthesia is not 1 + 1 = blue, these numbers are not a love story
my synesthesia is not a mango shaped space, these headaches are not a hole in a wall shaped like an old friend
my synesthesia is recognizing the scent of an old brand of shampoo and being transported to my darkest hour
my synesthesia is sensory overload
my synesthesia is a c-minus in math
my synesthesia is finding my first love because her name was the same color as mine and i felt like that meant something ethereal
my synesthesia is 1963 it is ad reinhardt painting a large canvas solid black because it’s simply much easier to take in
my synesthesia is minimalism and it is on display at moma