Apr 2021
red was the blood, like blossoms in July
orange tinted lips, the ones that told me good bye
yellow was the stairwell, the last place you went
green was your text, the last text you sent
blue were your tears, shimmering like gold
purple was your face as your body lay cold
white were the lilies, for which you were named
white were the lilies, the ones I lay on your grave.
orange tinted lips, the ones that told me good bye
yellow was the stairwell, the last place you went
green was your text, the last text you sent
blue were your tears, shimmering like gold
purple was your face as your body lay cold
white were the lilies, for which you were named
white were the lilies, the ones I lay on your grave.
I saw a poem called rainbow suicide and I thought it was beautiful. I wrote one from my own experience of having to watch my best friend die.
