Red were the roses, the ones I left on your casket,
Orange were the leaves, the ones in your tree,
Yellow were the bruises, the ones that covered you head-to-toe,
Green were the stains, the ones left on the hems of your jeans,
Blue were your lips, the day you were found in your noose,
Indigo was the night sky, that night that you died,
Violet was that bruise, the one you wore around your neck

as a kid
there's nothing
like wasting away inside a tiny
room
sitting on the backrest
of the couch
looking out the window
and seeing her
tread through the rain

a red umbrella covers
her.

Mother

she's going back
to the liquor store

We all suffer
It doesn’t matter why
We must normalize the pain
Accept it
And be part of it

There is no right or wrong
Living in the "Now" shan't always be the norm
Partly existing in the past
absorbing the essence and holding the grasp
Counting on the unknowns
and wanting them to be one of my own.
This is Me..
Breathing on these extremes

My favorite color used to be yellow,
it was my sun,
it kept me warm and happy

But as I grew older crimson
became my favorite color

A slow death,
crimson drips from my wrists
as I turn cold and pale