I'm writing this for you,
Flower thief. It's funny,
I told myself I'd never
Let it happen again, but I
Can only assume that I'm
The petal that falls once
You've clipped the stem.
Not to worry, my friend.
The breeze is quite beautiful
At such a day's quiet end.

Do not fall in love with the girl who writes
Unless you want to know hell first hand
She'll make you burn and bring you to ashes
And the worst part is
You won't mind burning at all

She's allergic to routine
Impossible to decipher
Something she takes as a compliment
She's June mornings and December nights
A rare mixture of sins and innocence
And impossible in every possible way

She's the type of girl you'll never forget
And you wont even want to
It'll be a roller coaster
You'll have sunny days laying on the beach
And others were the sea will drown you
You'll feel invincible
As if you have it all
Because you have her

Until she leaves
Without saying why
Or even goodbye
Her departure is something you'll never get over
Her smile will haunt you every day
You'll wake up from nightmares from the day she left
Screaming her name at 4 am
With the echo of her loss
Still resonating through your bedroom walls

*But you'll still believe they are dreams

Blue is the color of unrequited love
Grey the emptiness therein
Paint a perfect portrait of the loneliness thereof
And color me lonesome again

©Jason Cole