Red blood painted on my hands, I kiss my father on the cheek. I mosey out the old front door, I’m eighteen and invincible. I rub the water on my face and on my eyes and on my soul, it’s all thawing but still ice cold beneath this makeup mask. I pretend to love, when really I don’t care. It’s just responsibility to treat these ******* with respect. The ice and snow of the world’s heart spread frostbite to my own. I’m guilty of not giving a ****, and I don’t even give a ****. Nothing is a shade of gray; it’s all purple to me. And I sink my teeth into the earth, biting down in crimson blue.
Smiles are for sinners and being ****** over is for saints. How do you think they all ended up martyrs? I’ve been bruised blue by this world, but it all secrets with this sapphire suit. I have no choice but to stay frozen, fearful to admit my wounds. I’m hurt, I’ve been hurt, I’ve been hurting for a while, but I’m scared to say it all and have to say that I need help. Writing makes it real and it ravages my mind. All I wish for is a fire to warm me up from inside out and reignite this empty furnace, strangled until it turns blue. Maybe the world doesn’t have to be rose or indigo or purple at all, at all. Someday I’ll smile with every color, the hottest flames inside my soul burning bright and blue.