Bleeding Purple

The colour of my blood turned blue,

The day when my mother was gone missing forever.

Blue, was all I could feel,

Blue, was everywhere to be.

Blue, blue, blue!

And I forgot what red even felt like.

It was if the red in me died that day.

I ceased to be influenced by someone's kind words anymore,

For I knew they could not bring her back.

They reminded me to be happy,

Again after three months,

As if it was so easy.

They couldn't see that I was bleeding blue that time.

A year later,

I tried

To bring red back in me;

The happiness inside me demanded that.

But how can I explain,

I am not really good at remembering names,

And forgetting my people.

I wish I was good at that though,

Still, I kept on trying.

"You got to be happy, you got to be!"

I repeated to myself.

A year long battle

And now, at least,

I am bleeding purple.