Black.

You never looked as beautiful as you do now,
sobbing to be saved-
is this not what you wanted afterall?
A color to describe would be black,
with a hint of that inky blue
right beneeth the surface of the truth.
Your lips are pale,
weak-
emotionless, maybe.
Love; this is the color black
like the pupil of your eye,
seeing everything fleeing
into a puddle rained from within itself.
You are a reminder
that some commit suicide
long before they die.
Who am i to stop the result
of your efforts all of this time,
spending your life away?
Welcome to this puddle-
black.