The Colors of Death

January 24, 2008
By Holly Maki, Gwinn, MI

I love when you come to visit.
Sitting on my green blanket,
never saying a word.
Your lips dry like pink chalk

Why your skin is so pale,
in the midnight moon.
It feels cool now,
it’s the color of alabaster

Your arms are stained with red.
Little lines dance all the way down.
Like a car crash,
they’ve piled up

Your eyes are still so brown.
Light and dark at the same time.
Looking at you is like falling into chocolate.
They draw anyone in.

Beneath your eyes are so blue.
Like you never get to rest.
Even now.
Is it because of what you’ve done?

Your tears are so clear.
They shine like crystals tonight.
Do you regret your decision?
Is it why you’re still here?

It’s your own fault.
You didn’t have to play God.
You took your own life,
And now you have neither.
Not the joy of feeling live,
or the relief of having death.
Can you see now?
Or are you colorblind?


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