Collisions, formed from apathetic gazes at yesteryear,
are passively expressed as shades of purple.
All these expressions slowly...methodically, are brainwashed to a purer blue;
Reflecting this indifferent tranquility...are remnants of a peaceful sky;
I glare as all is swiftly consumed by gray.
Thoughts clashing, despair becomes whole, not a simple part.
I wish all the colors would blend: seamless
Return to the nightmare, as it is inevitable, and reoccurring.
I always stumble to realize, this simple yet appalling truth...
Who knew? The only one who remains truly blue is me.
In the end, we bleed... until our veins have run dry.
Forced to reminisce, like a stigmata in our hands and feet...
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