I can only view violet right now
Violet to me, equals a quiet storm composed of beauty and friction from beneath the floorboards of an empty house
I’m floored, yet, I’m relishing in myself
I’m an indulgent relic of a being so full
I can be null, but I’m impassioned
I’m falling between the seams of a sidewalk some days
The seams of things I attempt to rectify and reconstruct
While falling in between the branches of an evergreen, time moves fast and clusters into a dust storm configured of my own guts and ideas untouched
Life continues to move on without us
There’s no basis to stop