There’s purple everywhere

Purple paint

Purple fingers, where they went numb, purple splashed across my skin, and I can’t tell where the paint stops and the bruises begin anymore

The bristles of the brush were frazzled and bent out of shape where I had mashed them to the paper, like my hair-- tangled from the times I ran my hands through it.

I’m convinced my blood is lilac, and I’ve just bled out onto the page.

Violet, Amethyst, Wine

Staining my fingertips



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