The Catch-22 of Indigo and Magenta: A Poem of Dilemmas and Choices

My most cherished possession, holstered like a primary weapon
Baseline until I count to seven, quiet like a library session
Four Five Six.
These moments just help you evolve
Which adds truth to my theory that pain is necessary involvement
In life and in fiction, typecast me as your typical loner
Sedentary absolving, finding peace as a cynical joker
Time caught in a stone. I’d propose if you let it
I could grab you a minute, if you’d hold me a second
Slowly regressing into a caterpillar
Hold me. Then clench me.
Visit my calloused winters (Don’t) let me go- grab my spring and its passive whispers
Don’t catch my depression, but do catch my kisses
Even if it’s something to feel
Run to the hills.
Rip out this chapter and section
Tourniquet heal.
Veins indigo, black, and magenta
Dab in scented oil to mask the repentance
Show valid potential in aridest deserts
Ignoring red flags was only half of the question Half the equation-double the time–learned a third of the lesson
Rose-colored glasses shroud the color of pennants
Do wing-clipped fowls still make the bird as majestic?
Hardly.
Do inklings slipped under your door make you regret it?
Still hear your laugh interlaced in absentia If a tree falls in a forest you burn, does it matter no more?
Does the sound it makes get engulfed in the roars?
Patient connoisseur, full of control
Atom poems in my notepad stayed so reactive
Drunk cursive shooting out my pen like the borealis
Digitalis in the garden. Ketel 1 in my ale
Procrastinating the ending, I couldn’t have been better prepared
No plot twists keep character progression derailed
Fighting uphill battles with no wind in my sails
I promise you I meant what I said
Even if half of it was muttered on the other side of the bed
I’m waiting alone, plagued by a catch-22.
You sang me a song but sang it in blue.
Win, lose or draw.
Paint pictures of this varying muse
Recapturing colors that I barely knew