Black

She asked me why I always wear black.

I said that I wanted to own as few things as possible, including clothes, and black is a really goddamn practical color.

She asked me why I always wear black.

I said that it made it less obvious when I'd wear the same outfit for a week without washing it.

She asked me why I always wear black.

I said that it helps me simply and focus my life, like the uniform of a clergyman.

She asked me why I always wear black.

I said that I was mourning.

She asked me why I always wear black.

I said that blood doesn't show up on black clothes.

black bubbling emotion that fills my throat. the squeeze on my heart as it races in my chest. the complex weaving of the spider of hate in my soul. anger. confusion. pain. doubt. it begins with one and the others soon follow taking up space in my mind. filling me with hurt. and there isnt anything i can do about it. i am surrounded by people. i am completely alone.