I am blue

There is this room that is painted blue,
And there are bloodstains on the walls,
I have been to a lot these days. 
The marble tiles are withering slowly too,
But the color of the wall ain't. 
It's as fresh as the fruits.
The painter had took all the pains 
To mix everything to emboss them on the wall.

It matches exactly like the blue blood 
Clotted on the wall of the heart,
Wish I could witness the cerulean sky again
And inhale the rays of the sun into my bones.
Blue makes me bluer every day. 
Wishes become the stars on the walls.

The smell of camphor
And half burnt desires 
Asphyxiates me.
But I won't leave my walls,
My evergreen love is beaten 
By the domestic walls 
She is dying each day.

First April is the day I will be fooled 
I would then collect ashes of love 
And anoint it on my face. 
Then all I would do is see my ceiling 
Smiling at me, murmuring some jargon.
Blue defines me.
And green hates me. 
The only white is the white shroud.

I am now painted blue as well 
Matching my walls. 
Yes I am blue.

©Aquib

 

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