the chaos of the body makes it cry as it becomes frail.
the sky weeps a shade like blue, but not.
the healing vapor a shade of purple
pretending to be what it cannot be.
the snow collects the sadness as it falls with no sound.
a sharp pain reminds you of what has transpired.

blood flowing from lips and fingertips
letting you wilt like a forget-me-not into the ground.
let go. let the water of life wash over you.
your mind will wander into the garden of periwinkle
as it radiates a lovely color as deadly as nightshade.
you long to feel the softness of the non-existent flowers.

an eerie crimson soaking into the snow
and all the while keeping its heat to the very last beat.
your eyes grow dull, you strain to see,
all that could be left of what was you.
in the garden of periwinkle where you pretend
to be a violent violet, but you can never be blue.

light and shadow making colors
gush in every direction of the world.
only the grey can save you now.
will you choose the marvelous mauve?
could it be the navy hue that truly entices you?
its too late the grey has come and all is one again.

By: Jenni Anderson (my real name)
(FYI:this poem is protected by a creative commons license it is my own authentic work, so please no stealing)