Phases Of Violet

She stands in perfect stillness

Catching and counting the contradictions from the sidelines.

Feels Time carve his way under her tired lashes

Leaving traces of narcolepsy in the Umber of her eyes.

Shadows cast over broken blood vessels and pale knuckles

Sometimes she pretends that, 

This is normal

To feels Ambition stretching the marks across your skin

Watching Admiration hollow out the spaces between every rib

Quickly and Quietly.

Listening as Responsibility and Dedication take turns adding weights to her shoulders

Because they say the strong reek of Tequila and Confidence.

But Depression craves 

The Bold.

The Vibrant.

 And the Reckless.

In perfect stillness she told herself,

it’s just a phase to feel violent.