Well, I wrote this one around 2016. I don’t really remember what sort of emotions compelled me to write it, but it was something my little self had been proud of back then, which is why I kept it with me, even after all these years.
I always enjoyed symbolising emotions and the state of minds through colours, and this poem was an armature attempt at doing just that. I had originally planned on writing it out on hive, but the colour indications would be lost if I just do that, hence the use of an image.
So yeah, this is, my colours.
You were blue,
And you told me I was black.
But you didn't see the tiny flare of red inside it,
Flickering like a firefly and suddenly disappearing.
There was green there too.
But he was old and rusty,
like the mosses on brick walls,
So he hid under the darkness.
Then there was yellow,
But she was too small and too bright for you to see,
so you never saw her.
And there was pink.
But pink was bleeding.
Pink didn't want to come out.
Grey was there too,
On places where battles were lost,
grey was there, marking the memory.
You said I had violet on my black.
That violet laid on the edges of my ever black soul.
But you didn't know that violet was the bruise
left by blue and maroon as they attacked black over and over again.
Blue wanted to take over.
And maroon wanted to destroy.
But you didn't see them at all,
because black protected them.
Black was the wall.
And behind the wall lay chaos.
