You are as blue as this name would indicate. Indigo, the deepest blue, the black of blues. A storm of the blackest blues. Sad and lonely, vulnerable and alone.
This kind of blue sneaks up on you. It's not like you enter a room knowing this particular tempest awaits. No one would do so knowing her wily ways. No. This kind of blue is seductive. She starts out as the most faint hue of blue,barely a whisper. It's overlooked, thought to be a lack of sleep or a busy schedule. As she becomes baby blue, though you see her, she's thought to be just a momentary glitch. After you get some rest this weekend and eat better, you'll be as good as new.
She chuckles at your hubris. She is amused, wondering how long it will take for you to realize her beautiful depths, how long before you realize who's in charge. As she turns to a brilliant blue, you still won't acknowledge that you are beginning to lose the race. Though you are wondering if you still have a prescription. By now she's wrapped herself around your chest.
You awaken to find that you have neither the strength nor the desire to get out of bed. You realize that the whisper of blue has become a prussian toned system limiting your visibility and scattering everything you worked hard to plant. Powerless, you just lay in bed wondering how you got there. How did you get so weak? When did she get so strong?
And after many weeks, maybe today is the day? The sky is the blackest of blues and it's only 1 P.M. The wind sounds like a train heading over a cliff. The sky has become a cloud, and the cloud is reaching for you. She has enclosed you, squeezing while you gasp helplessly. The vicious cloud is smashing all that you are; destroying all that you have.
No one around you seems to notice; everyone else is enjoying the sun.
Where will you land this time?