The Colors of Pain

Pain comes in an ever shifting shade. From purples of wines that men drowned in, and the browns of their beer to the blue of frostbite, and the red of blood, pooling on the floor. The color contains the shine of a knife and the glint of a gun. It’s the color of screams that have melted all over the floor like orange candle wax, and the silent gasps that come after being struck in their sickenly pretty pale purple. It’s the green of bile and muck and the brown of the graveyard dirt that burns a hole in the heart. And every single shade is swept over with the hazy sheen of unshed tears glistening in the eyes of someone precious, and carries the weight of a cancerous secret never to be revealed