Blue

Blue are the veins, trailing
beneath the translucence of my skin
flowing through me like narrow streams
or perhaps even the atmosphere of a cloudless sky
with not a chance of rain to pour down on me

Blue is the carpet of my bedroom
worn and trampled from the constant treading over
holding clumsy paint stains
that wouldn't budge from it's grasp
bringing my feet a softness that takes me back to childhood

Blue was the color of my father's room
walls always holding the familiar scent
of cigarettes and cologne and dusty wood furniture
all these years I've wondered how one room could hold
so many memories I wish not to remember

Blue are the tidal waves
that crash down on me once in a while
trying always to drown me with a powerful grip
soaking my skin with their deceiving splashes
of what they claim to be paradise

Blue are the bruises
I give to myself, sometimes
breaking the fragile walls of the rivers inside me
marks of beauty, I like to call them
but reminders they are, of how ugly I can get

Blue are my eyes
that some call quite puzzling
whether shimmering in the sunlight
or pouring crystals down my cheeks
they're eyes that have seen the unspeakable

Blue is the soul
that I carry with me
sealed tight in a drawstring bag
though dull, does it still shine
beneath the flesh and bone of my chest