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There's violet and lavender and lilac.
Like deep bruising, like sleepless night, like cold anemic skin.
It hurts somewhere between the cold defeat of blue and the hot anger of red.
But it's comforting too, like acceptance; acknowledgment; the first step to getting better.
And there's yellows too
Marigold and dandelion and polished bronze.
It's like warm sunshine, like soft flower petals, like sturdy statues.
It's encouraging; hotter and more pure than red but never as close as the color of life.
But it's intimidating too; like the mythical idea of being okay.