pinksandblues

the pinks of my life,

so happy, so young.

the carelessness of a time before

the plague of growing up,

growing out of people,

of myself.

the blues,

the sadness, the guilt and despair

that wreaks havoc in the bones

of this body.

the body that once was pink,

now a melancholy blue.

the combination creating a plethora of purple,

a desire not even grasped by myself yet.

to be pink is to be blue,

because without an understanding of a pink,

you would not know what a blue was.