Her nails were blue before it happened

Pity, she knew she wanted to wear green.

She stalled in the chamber of her shower

Staring at the hands that had caused so much harm.

She varnishes them as an illusion.

Innocence, the façade of colour.

Red stained those tools once

But that’s too messy this time.

She watched the blue as she counted,

How many she wondered?

Polka dots of an indistinct flavor

But tonight, it’s metallic.

Offset by the tears she’s been choking on all night.

But she refuses to choke on this.

Before it happened, her nails were blue.

Now the rest of her body harbors the same shade of despair.

“She always looked so beautiful in green…”