My sky is blue
Broken-china-blue
Today

Not as yours or his or anyone’s
Not robin’s egg happy-hue
Or hopeful cornflower-color
Not rolling-ocean-peace
No endless expanse
Over a world full of possibility

But my sky is blue
Crying-eye- blue
Today

I don’t remember
The exact color of the car
That took you away
But in my mind’s eye
It should be this blue
My blue

Because my sky was blue
Teardrop-truth-blue
That day

Such a contrived color,
Overused metaphor:
Sad-blue, dead-blue
Burning-blue-gray like my hate
For all the words
We’ll never share
For desperation
For lost beginnings
Estranged from happy endings
And foregone conclusions
And decisions made
By a woman whose pasty face
Is still burned as

A blue-print in my mind
Of the person I
Never want to become

The woman who
Unknowingly
Painted my world
In red-fury and
Burnt-orange-bitter goodbyes
Thoughtless paintbrush
Strokes making sure

That my sky was blue
Crisp-autumn-cloudless blue
That day

When you and I
Were both too young
For understanding
Just
Children caught up
In the real world
For the first time

Yes, my sky is blue
Snapdragon-fire-blue
Today

When seven years later
I think I’m
Still not old enough
To comprehend

Why my sky is blue
Bittersweet-baby-blue
Today

Because they
Took you away
Because you’ll never
Know my name

Even though I’ll
Remember yours
For the rest of my life

maybe, i don't fit in
maybe i don't belong
this place hasn't been right for me
since everything went wrong

i walk, the lonely streets
i search for something deep inside of me
but i find nothing,
nothing but blue

i feel blue
always, forever blue
the days are lonely,
the nights are cold
but i will always be blue

as i walk along the busy streets
and the lights of this city
i begin to think, its not worth it
i dont matter, not one bit

i walk, the lonely streets
i search for something deep inside of me
but i find nothing,
nothing but blue

i feel blue
always, forever blue
the days are lonely,
the nights are cold
but i will always be blue

when did it begin?
when does it end?
when will i be happy again?
always blue
forever sad
i am nothing

i feel blue
always, forever blue
the days are lonely,
the nights are cold
but i will always be blue

i feel blue
always, forever blue
the days are lonely,
the nights are cold
but i will always be blue

im just blue
never happy
never smiling
just blue,
so blue
only blue
i am very blue

Dear Miss Melancholy,
I write constantly of how you affect me
you're like a guest
who overstays their welcome
in my head
and in my heart.
You seem to keep me all together
yet you constantly tear me apart.
And sometimes I think
that I will miss your constant presence,
but then I remember,
I will not miss Miss Melancholy
because she enjoys my sadness
and loves making me bleed
for reasons that are not clear to me.

Melancholy.
A pretty word
with such a sad heart.
Makes you wonder
what made it so.

Melancholy.
The way it's said
so passively,
inattentively,
ignorantly,
makes me want to
scream.

Melancholy.
The word is reverent
and should be treated so.
A beautiful expression
to be used with care,
if you please.

Melancholy.
It's not sickly sweet
like some of the others,
yet not too sour either.
A little bit salty,
like tears.
But really,
who hasn't tasted their own?

Melancholy.
The word flows like a river
of tears down a cheek.
One filled with regret,
sorrow, loneliness.

Melancholy.
The more I say it
the more I like it.
The way it drifts,
and takes my thoughts with it.
Not to a happy place,
but a place of quiet,
sad thoughts.

Melancholy.
Even the word itself
draws me to it.
I think it is,
in part,
because I relate.
Sometimes,
it seems,
we are all
melancholy.
And I am but one
in a million
who feels it too.