I’m surfing in a sea of emotions,
and every wave drags a memory behind it.
My tears look blue,
but so is the sea,
and both of them drown quietly.
My eyelids carry weight,
whales migrate with less burden.
My breath tastes like storms,
and my nose smells blood.
The sharks inside me circle slowly.
When I close my eyes,
I see red.
A warm red,
not anger,
just the quiet burn
of a heart that refuses to go numb.
Blue and red, a police car siren.
Blue and red, an ambulance screaming through distance.
These are the colors the world uses
to signal danger and urgency,
a life slipping, a life saved.
But they are also the colors
that flood my body when I feel too much.
The pulse in my throat,
the ache behind my eyes,
the bruises memory leaves behind.
Blue and red.
The colors that find me,
the colors that bind me,
the colors that paint me
every time I fall back
into the sea of myself.