I’ve tried anger and hatred and revenge on for size. They don’t suit me. They just don’t. They’re not me.
I prefer my mourning ebons. They’re quieter and more dignified. I like to pretend dignity sometimes. Or maybe try to forget the indignity. The shame. The violation. The mess.
It’s quite messy.
And if I stick to black, I can always add a splash of colour from time to time.
I like pink. And blue too.
Even rose red.
No bitterness. Just sorrow.
Not Just You.