Blue - Unpublished Journals of Depression II

Ever since I can remember,
My favorite color was blue.
As a child, I had a favorite blue shirt, a favorite blue dress,
And countless blue stationery.
My very first pair of all-star sneakers were blue.
On my wedding day, my best friend lent me her blue ring.
I've always had blue dresses and my favorite one is still blue.
My favorite blue things always change in tone,
Nuances of skies and sea, shades of sadness.
I've always seen life through this blue veil
It waved on windy days, it got darker on the rain
It protected me from the harsh light of day.
No wonder I had my first suicide thought when I was six.
I was always blue. Depression was my very first companion.
It always made sure I was never alone, but always lonely
Especially under blue skies.
It was always present and clingy, her blue eyes always welled up in blue tears.
It held my hands loosely, shaking in fear, blue in despair,
Feeding of and crying over my mother's neglection.
But as time went by, Depression could no longer handle the pressure
Of being my blue-eyed tearful mother
She decided to invite her sister, Anxiety, to help her color
My semi-blank canvas of a life.
The blue did not go away, though - Depression became a silent tutor
And Anxiety was a loud, oppressive aunt
She was always red and urgent, her sleepless eyes jumping
From one thing  to another and another until she made me dizzy
And my dizziness was a shade of purple
Anxiety and Depression arguing, their voices overlapping in a fierce embrace
My purple dizziness disguised as hallucinations,
but introduced herself as Paranoia.
Paranoia was my adopted mean sister - she had the craziest ideas
But somehow, in family meetings, she always convinced everyone, including me,
That they were true.
So how curious it is now, to notice that the veil thickened
During my years with my imaginary family
Until it finally crystallized - one final move before my heart was thorn apart.
It was so curious to touch this blue crystal, stained in red and purple,
And finally realize that life was not really colored this way.
So how curious it is now to peek around these blue lenses
And find deep brown eyes waiting for me to notice, to look back,
to see something heavier and earthier than my usual blue, to fall in love with them.
It is so curious to watch my very own hands reaching out to touch your blonde hair
And on a color explosion, you suddenly make me see the world
Pink-romance rosé for the first time.