Purple Plush

it’s a me thing,
because of you.

There’s a once over glance now when they approach me.
Having to analyze them before they are allowed to speak.

soft,
the way you tainted me.
Slowly let the ribbons bleed out until I couldn’t stand by myself.

lavender lines painted on my walls,
attempting to soothe my innermost thoughts,

of you.

Of what we once were,
Plum lines dancing in an infinite sky.

These lavender lines fade now,
to be wrapped in silks, fine linens of serene purples.

it’s a me thing,
because of you.

There’s a slow cry in the background now,
a symphony of a dying plum, drifting into a lavender that consumes me.
it’s comforting,
the way your toxins brought me ease,
a plush love, a cocoon of decadent almosts.

What am I to do now?
When the plums are bruised and the lavender fields stop growing.