access

In my world of blue trees and bitter apples, only few people have access to the right code which allows them to peer through it. Only a few will receive my full attention, because butterflies keep me from listening the hums of those who create halos all around them, as if they were unreachable. I don’t pay attention to them, that is why I am an outsider.
In my silver world of paper birds and stamped words, only a few can understand my real passion for ephemeral wonders. So, don’t try to speak louder, I’m deaf to high pitches. Don’t come disguised in new colors; I merely see the primary ones.