Moving Thought

Blue was a color. I talked to him.
He told me that he saw things. What a messed up life.
First it was in the sky. Then I put it on my shirt.
Afterward, I saw it in the water. Then I put it on my jeans.
He got tired of it. So he put it in my head
That he wasn’t real. That it was just my eyes
Looking at reflections of white light. And I told everyone.
And they saw it like that too.
I tried to paint that night. But I couldn’t use blue.
He and Sense had a fight before I heard.
Apparently, Sense didn’t know what she was.
I think she was schizophrenic. Of course, Reason
Always lusted after her.
Now? I’m all out of blue. Ever burgeoning graveyard,
Entrance marked “The Dead Shall Be Raised”.
No, I think you’re really just putting them under. Oh, you mean Him.
To the Blue? Actually, he’s dead too.
Where am I? Admiring a sky devoid of mystery, enchantment,
In an ever burgeoning graveyard of possibilities.