I see white. The colour of marshmallows in hot chocolate. Of the snow angels she made with that boy whose name she’d forgotten. The colour of his unforgettable smile.

I see black. The colour of the ocean at midnight. Of sunburnt skin in summer.  The colour of the vinyl records her father left her.

I see black. The colour of his eyes when they first met hers. The colour of the places his hands, tongue and body had been. Of his silhouette under the sheets when they first made love. The colour of the Harley he drove away on.  The colour of the leather jacket she hoped he’d come back for.

I see white. The colour of her dress on her wedding day. Of whitewashed walls and delicate china. The colour of fluffy clouds, doilies, lilies and Moscato.

I see white. The colour of the shirt he wore when she found lipstick stains on his collar. Of the round pills she’d take to help her sleep. The colour of the bed linen that never needed changing. The colour of divorce papers. The colour of a melting tub of vanilla ice cream flavoured with salty tears.

I see black. The colour of rum and coke. Of cigarette butts and burnt photographs. The colour of tears and mascara. Of the dress she wore to that party she couldn’t remember. Of the dark room they’d hotbox in. The colour of the ink on the unpaid utility bill. Of the coffee that fought her merciless hangovers. The colour of the bags under her eyes. The colour of deep, drunken sleep.

I see white. The colour of the ghosts of unfinished conversations. Of the hair that showed despite the dyeing. The colour of the cocaine that finally got the better of her. The colour of her skin in her coffin. The colour of eternal peace, sleep and redemption.



9 thoughts on “GREY

  1. Hi, came across your blog on fb. The one about Bangalore, led me to this one. I loved every word. I want to tell you exactly what a profound effect your simple words has, but I am rendered speechless here. Beautifully expressed, deeply conveyed. Very few people can write so well, choose words so perfectly that it leaves a mark on your soul forever. You are one of those. Thank you!

    PS: About Dear Bangalore…I live in Bangalore too. I felt as if you’d written each word knowing what i feel. I love this city, it just reflected my thoughts too well. Moving. Keep going. Good luck.

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