Black has always been a favourite colour of mine.
It is dark and dreary but so beautiful in its own.
It is the colour lining eyes, dripping down cheeks of heart broken teenagers.
It is the colour of hair braided and tied with silk ribbon at the lowering of a casket 6 feet under.
It is the colour of dead petals mixing among a fall breeze.
It is the colour of my eyes as you tell me "I'm sorry but I can't do this anymore."
It is the colour of blood coursing through my veins as I nurse another bottle of Jack.
It is the colour of your soul as you fall in love with another.
It is the colour of the ink I write this heartbreak in.
Black has always been a favourite colour of mine, until you.
I need to change myself to prevent a violent death.
So, I guess I'll look at white.
