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Disgust.

Disgust is a dark, incomprehensible crimson.

It looks like retreating into yourself when you think of your past actions.

It sounds like all the filth I let you spew.

It smells like shirts I let marinate in the stench of your laundry and hair products.

It tastes like flesh underneath my teeth.

And it feels like a death sentence.

Fear.

Fear is a putrid, sickening green.

Like something you’d scrape off the bottom of your shoes.

It looks like the closet of my childhood bedroom.

It sounds like the voice in your head, repeating altercations until the tape wears thin.

It smells like a nasal passage finally cleared by tears.

It tastes like my own tongue.

And it feels suffocating and infinite.

Guilt.

Guilt is a rich and deep purple.

It looks like upturned brows and the downturned corners of loved one’s lips.

It sounds like the empty air, the silence interrupted ever so often by coos and choked sobs.

It smells like the fabric softeners of everyone I’ve ever relied on.

It tastes like cotton accidentally touching your tongue as you relieve your dry mouth.

And it feels like I’ll never get close enough to hurt you anymore.

Shame.

Shame is a lemony yellow, enticing but sickening.

It looks like fingers tugging at shirt collars, and skirts lifted in the wind.

It sounds like whispers, and the closing of bathroom stalls.

It smells like sweat.

It tastes like flesh.

And it feels like this weight will never leave.

Loneliness.

Loneliness is blue like a vast ocean.

It looks like a crowded room where no one catches your eye.

It sounds like empty conversation and talking for the sake of noise.

It smells like you and only you.

It tastes like binge eating.

And it feels safer than being in love.