if only i could wash it out of me
My chin is stained violet
Blueberries make me nauseous
I hope they don’t stain my soul
As easily.
The blues digesting in my gut
Has spread to my poor head
Pounding, I can hear it,
I split my skin to feel release.
I brush my teeth
Until my gums bleed
The blues has spread to my mouth now
I speak in sore cries.
I am entirely blue
But my vision is tainted with memories
Of simpler times
When I was Technicolor.
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
