Purple.
A replica of lost emotions and feelings stained in my heart.
Or maybe it's my brain.
Like a little bottle of purple magic.
All I wished was to be purple.
Like you.
But I'm a clumsy fool.
And yet I somehow let you spill the bottle into my heart.
The magic is dust now.
I want it to be dust.
Now, it's stained grey.
Like my emotions and thoughts.
Contemplations aren't necessary.
They're enemies.
There's a war between the purple in my heart.
The grey in my brain.
The love.
The hate.
And yet I find myself losing.
To every single war that I start.
