Lavender

My head is pounding and the world has taken on a different sort of tincture.

Everything seems to be shaded in lavender tones- but not that pretty sort of lavender- the kind that goes along with summer dresses, and cotton pillowcases and mom hugs.

Instead it's the lavender that goes along with Iris by the Goo Goo Dolls.

The lavender that makes you want to sleep for the duration of 1000 sunsets, and 1000 moon falls.

The lavender that makes you feel everything and nothing all at once- and you feel like you've got those Breakfast at Tiffany's mean reds.

You're frightened and you don't know what you're frightened of- except in this case, you do. That's why it's lavender instead of red.

And what you're frightened of is beautiful, even in the wake of its unfamiliar terror. And even though you're frightened- you cannot look away.

That old devil feeling of forthcoming change is the only monkey on your back tonight.

Transitions are far more emotional than physical- change isn't half as upsetting as it's temporal lobe associations are.

It all kind of just hurts right now. Everything and nothing are welling up into an overwhelming tidal wave of what's to come.

And it's all lavender.

The knots in my stomach and the pounding in my head and the memories and the possibilities the exchanges and the unspoken promises and the music.

It's all a whirling spectacle of lavender lights and lavender smells and lavender memories.

"And I don't want the world to see me, 'cause I don't think that they'd understand.

When everything feels like it's broken, I just want you to know who I am."