A yellow flower
embedded in rose red frizzy hair,
laughing with a light blush.
A hazy grey morning,
muting the usually bright lawn,
just enjoying the cool mist.
Light blue walls,
partnered with old wooden bookshelves,
resting on leather couches.
Silver fairy lights
strung up to make the pristine room
look less like a hospital.
Too hot days, a burning orange,
accompanied by gas station runs
for sparkling lemonade.
Rainy days, dark grey clouds,
confused looks, and grins from those
who welcome storms.
Sweets hidden in desk drawers,
sweet moments hidden in plain sight,
simply savoring the moment.

It got cold.
It used to be so warm, so bright.
But it got colder, darker,
dragging me into a world of frozen hearts
and calculated smarts.

I left to find my sunshine again.
To find the brightness,
the laughter
and the freckles
of happiness that spotted my face
like all the stars in space.

But the cold followed.
a tendril didn't melt over the golden,
overwhelmingly hot summer.
I can do nothing more than hope
that I will learn to like the cold, that I will cope.

"but rain is depressing"

the usual reaction
to my weird joy
when it rains.

you know what?
rain is depressing.
but that's why
i like it so much.
it's in pain,
it's relatable,
it's
sad.

It's falling
with little control.
d
   r
     o
        p.
It's gone,
absorbed
into grass,
or accepted into
a little stream
down a cheek
or on a road
making its way
to a gutter.

It's loud
and distracting.
constant interruptions
to look
up and meet
the rain,
or out the window
in a futile attempt
to see where
the thunder
comes from.
a tumult of thoughts
mixing with cries
of the wind.

Soaking clothes
and freezing hair,
though nothing colder
than the emptiness
inside.
a void filled
only with drops.
rain or tears.
it doesn't matter.
even then,
it's not stable.
just rain
and sadness
in an abyss.

You're my sunset,
I know you're leaving me in darkness soon,
retreating behind a cover of night,
with just stars
to remember you by.
Yet you're so beautiful that I forget
to appreciate
the time I have with you.

So you left too fast
but I never really had you anyways.

Everyone says it's not poetry unless it's got rhyme.
Well I wouldn't buy that for a dime.
My brain's a giant mess,
why would i try to make what I say any less?
Organization and aesthetics, you say?
well ***** that, anyway.

Coffee shops.
Lemon drops.
Those rhyme!
You'll see what i do with those in time.
Or maybe not;
I've already done a lot.

All this irony's made my brain jello,
so it's time to say hello
(to the end of this poem).

There's nothing
i wouldn't do for you.

Yet there's also nothing
you would do for me.

All I wish for is an everlasting storm,
whose thunder will soothe me to sleep
when people fail to do so,
and startle me at weird moments,
putting a grin on my face.
Lightning that will wake me up,
and pull me out of exhaustion's grasp for a brief moment,
a moment of awe,
and add a sparkle to my eyes when I most need it.
A storm with heavy rain,
adept at hiding tears from prying eyes
and muffling escaped cries
with constant drumming on the roof,
distracting others from my pain.
Rain that cools down blushes and keeps me humble
because ****,
my hair looks awful when it's wet.
Wind that can pick me up
and take me somewhere else, anywhere,
or blow my hair in strange ways to make me laugh, a least.
I want a storm to keep me company,
because sometimes people just won't do.