Bleeding to Blend

Collisions, formed from apathetic gazes at yesteryear,
are passively expressed as shades of purple.
All these expressions slowly...methodically, are brainwashed to a purer blue;
Reflecting this indifferent tranquility...are remnants of a peaceful sky;
I glare as all is swiftly consumed by gray.

Thoughts clashing, despair becomes whole, not a simple part.
Forsaken in wishing that all the colors would blend together: seamless
I return to the nightmare, regrettably; it is inevitable, and reoccurring.
Upon my return, stumbling to realizing, this simple yet appalling truth...
Who knew? The only one who remains truly blue is me.

Nearing the end, we continue to bleed, until our veins have run dry.
yearning to reminisce, like forcibly retaining holes in our hands and feet...