Bruises
It was like
<br>
A bruise
<br>
The type of blue
<br>
Recognizable by a glance
<br>
Not sky blue
<br>
Not ocean blue
<br>
But bruise blue
<br>
Not peace nor mystery
<br>
But rough and harsh
<br>
Delicate and weak
<bbr>
Skin meek color of Blue
<br>
Soft tenderness with whispered curses
<br>
Passive aggressive sighs
<br>
Of “It’s alright”
<br>
And “I’ll be fine”
<br>
And “This happens all the time?”
<br>
You fall recklessly for too many
<br>
You’ve gotten used to
<br>
The gravity
<br>
You can pin point
<br>
That feeling you get in your core
<br>
Before
<br>
You hit the ground
<br>
That moment of interruption
<br>
The frozen scene seen through every dimension
<br>
The blissfulness
<br>
Of stationary suspension
<br>
Just before
<br>
The bruise forms
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