When Dead Was My Favourite Colour

At eleven, I took Dead out of its box,

spread it onto my palette,

learnt how to splatter it across a conversation,

began to like its uncomplicated shade.

Started to experiment with block colour,

found a steady comfort in paint.

I never used Lost, Asleep, Passed or Heaven.

I watched others dab them onto skies

that always seemed cloudier that mine.

Dead was the only hue I knew how to use.

The shade in which I could remember you.

Much later I would unbox Grief,

mix it with water and recreate the closest colour

to the sky I was trying to describe.