not melancholic,
just blue,
a hue.
A colour to sum up my emotions,
the sky that suffocates me,
the water I drown in.

Not suicidal,
just blue.
Blue like the messages you send me,
used to.
And blue like the colour of you lips,
in winter, the bluest season,
a hue.

Not depressed,
just blue.
A colour to represent how I feel.
Blue is the glove that once held your hand,
and lost warmth.
Blue is the colour that consumes me now that you are not here.

Not lonely,
but blue,
a hue,
when you no longer care for me.

– Priscillamf (18.06.17)