January 25, 2012
By Tahvannis BRONZE, Clarkston, Michigan
Tahvannis BRONZE, Clarkston, Michigan
2 articles 0 photos 0 comments

Favorite Quote:
Genesis 1:1

At some point I do my best just to try to not remember, it was a long, long time ago.
I do not remember what it was that made me think there was ever a point where I would have come out of it completely fine.
I’ve been under here for quite a while now and I think I’ve had enough.
Complimented to the tune of all of those beautiful combinations of reds and blue.

And I know what purple is.

I go through the same routine that I imagine you would, I wake up in the same way I know that it’s not over, that it’s always going to be like this. I go to bed much in the same, falling asleep when I completely give up trying.

And then I remember purple.

A lot of months go by and I feel still heartless;
full of these balloons that just won’t float.
I don’t even get that tiny thrill of choking it all out.

And then I forget purple.

I was never in that room.
Where I saw someone who obviously wasn’t you.
I never looked down and stopped for words
When all I could see was
yellow skin and purple eye-sockets.
I never got scared
When you grabbed my wrist
In a comatose daze and didn’t know what you were doing.
Who would have thought that was the last thing I heard you say.
No surprises,
Just something inaudible mumbled through your sleep.

But purple’s just a color.
It’s only just a hue.
The color of royalty
Only sickens when adorned on you.
That shirt has no meaning.
Your name on my wrist means nothing.
The promises I made to God go to waste.
My Dad still won’t talk about you,
My mother doesn’t even seem to care,
I laugh at the same jokes that I did before.
Crying isn’t something I do anymore.
I have never been to a funeral.
I don’t see that grave with those engraved numerals.
I don’t know anyone who’s had cancer.
There’s always a tiny end in sight.
Purple’s just a color.
It’s just a prettier blue.
This bracelet’s just a thing.
I don’t know anyone who’s survived cancer.
Everyone’s just the same.
Purple’s just a color.
I’m still breaking promises to God,
and purple’s just a color.

In the morning I am awake from all of those things I thought about you when I couldn’t keep it to myself and all inside of my head.
It’s not so much the memory of it but the way it got you at that time that it did.

And whatever that it meant in the beginning,
The way that it did
Tiny circles adorning our wrists
And reminding us there’s no one left to kid.

Purple for the pancreas
The center of it all.
I don’t know what it means
To think how violently we watched during violet’s fall.

But purple’s just a color.
That room was just a room.
Hospitals mean nothing,
To those that have forgotten you.
Our families still meet up together,
And there’s only one thing missing.
But no one brings up the subject,
In case your kids are listening.
But you were assigned to purple,
So I guess it’s purple that you’ll be
I’m sorry if we keep you alive
But purple will carry you on eternally.

But purple’s just a color.

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