striped carnation

foreword

unspoken words paint monochrome,
dotted with blues engraved in tears,
with blacks of darkness millionfold.

purples of pain,
a bleak canvas of rain,
as i welcome the unfamiliar elements into my arms.

it splatters all across,
and i dance in a frenzy,
because insanity is what i received.

my fingers lace together with another,
as the lights dance beneath us,
i remember the tale of one—

one was the disease,
one became the recipient,
and the disease was me.

gray streaks on the canvas,
blending with every shade of mind,
a bruise on my lips throbbing in purple, black, and blue.

i remember it as if it were yesterday,
a slap to my face as fingers collided with lips you could have touched,
but you didn't, and i gained a regret.

where are you now, i ask.
i need you, i lament.
but i can't, i tell myself.

with what courage i own,
i hand a striped carnation to say what i couldn't—
either no, or not, it tells one thing i've held on to.

"i'm sorry we can't be together."