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My days are all purple,
Not yellow, not green,
But a lavender, orchid, and lilac
shaded screen
My vision ever tainted
With visions of you
Hello Daisies May 17
You know I write my love songs
and my poems
when everything feels wrong
when there's pain
I feel it all
it makes my skin crawl
into a ball of unwritten words
I must let fall onto paper

So I sit here and I feel bad
that every note pad isn't about you
it's about him or her
and love and other blurs
but never about you
and all your hues

I want to explain why
if I may
You and I
Red and purple
passionate and secure
deep and for real
you have never made me feel
pain
never made me kneel
or strain
you have always been
my place
my home
the one who will never roam

I think that's beautiful
but maybe I need to say it more
write about you on the floor
write about our love on every door
but I only seem inspired to write
while crying on the floor

You have never left me bruised
or sore
never left me seeking more
we are together
in perfect harmony
it's never a bore
You and me are
as Taytay said
Forevermore

So I write this poem to you
my best friend
my sister
my soul mate
and my favorite person
I love you
and I think you know
every day with you
to me is like
dancing in the snow
<3
Lilac flowers remind me of something more,
Their sent drifting through each open door,
Lilac flowers remind me of something more.

Purple is the color of royalty,
I happened to be a royal once,
Purple is the color of royalty.

Niagara grapes wrote their own poem,
But I destroyed it, does that make me less?
Niagara grapes wrote their own poem.
Sunseeker21 Apr 15
Purple.
The color, warm, cold,
catching gazes like it’s gold.

Every time I look, I feel the need.
The need to.
To do what? I must, I should, I ought.
The feeling like it’s something,
someone I have already fought.

Living, lying.
Is it the same?
Every time, I immediately took the blame.

Hiding behind, hiding inside.
You could never find me in a lavender field this wide.

The option of expressionism,
the reason for creativity.
Still, we all find a reason to copy,
like it’s some sort of collectivity.

Warm, cold, it doesn’t matter.
I talk of the pain foolishly, it did just shatter.

Blank canvas, standing in front of everyone.
Blank canvas, standing in front of me.

Purple stains my fingers,
a mark I will not be able to wash away.
I wrote this while I was painting
Amethyst crystals shining in the sunlight
Violet skies in the dusky night
Lavender flowers arranged in a glass vase
Lilac clouds floating in the vibrant sunset
Indigo seas reflecting the dark sky
Plum fruits hanging from the sturdy branches
Fuchsia trees clustered in the deep forest
Magenta lipstick smeared across a smile
Orchid plants flowing in the cool breeze
witch Mar 18
feet are cut... by melancholia-infested memories.
is this my savior? my never-ending heaven I'm supposed to be in?
no, god never answered me.
here I am, death on earth. earth I am, both of us blend... to eternity.

no curse, no bliss.
no death to undying crisis.
you will never get the key, not on last blink.
die, girl with a poem. die on her last poem.

salvation whispers.
I “borrowed,”
a customer’s purple shirt
“okay, I stole that shirt”

It looked too good,
with an ironic phrase in white words

“dreams do come true”

Do I feel guilty
about “borrowing,” that purple shirt

“I don’t really know”

But I’ll let you know
later on tomorrow, as I’ve hung it out
with an outfit, ready to go to church.

kokoro Oct 2024
she doesn't know how much her words hurt
she shoves them down my throat
she puts my hand around my mouth so i can't spit it out
she loops around my throat
until i choke up and my thoughts turn purple.
Heidi Franke Jun 2024
What is between schocking red, earthly pink, and plummed purple?

Life. Grass. A trembling leaf. Force of green.
My three year old  Serviceberry tree planted in memory has this year bore the berries. The colors shock.
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