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.