I'm old fashioned enough to remember when turquoise was not for boys, a nice enough colour and with healing properties apparently, but it's not for me.

I dress in grey,
battleship grey to
match my face on
any given day
and
it seems I've been
given
lots of days,

She says,
that I should mend my ways,
wonder if mending the car
counts.

Dear self,
In losing you

Days seem blurry
Nights seem scary

Heart grows weary
Eyes turn teary

I lost the merry
I lost the power to write my story