the story goes
that van gogh would eat yellow paint
in hopes that it would
put happiness inside of him –
probably the same reason
he drank absinthe.

i never understood that level of desperation –
except i painted my fingernails yellow today
in hopes that sunshine
would flow from my fingertips
instead of the torrential downpour
that i’ve made a home out of.

but it only reminds me of van gogh
and new york city
and you –
lots of starry nights

who knew you had the power
to make everything feel so grey in your wake?

if you think about it,
all of us have our own yellow paint –
something we cling to for refuge
even though we know it’s killing us, slowly,
the temporary solace feels worth it
if only for a moment

and you were mine.

- courtney l. p.

the list of ways that
i care for myself
the way i used to care for you:

1. when i'm feeling down, i ask myself what's wrong. no really,
    what's wrong?

2. i take myself on meditative walks alone to clear my head and
    reflect with no distractions.

3. i take myself out for ice cream to celebrate the good days. i pat
    my own back.

4. i give myself the bad days to cower beneath my duvet. i do not
    push myself to face the world before i am ready.

5. i never say something about myself that i wouldn't say about you
    (the reverse golden rule).

6. i look myself in the eyes at the bathroom mirror, in awe, as if i
    hung the very moon i can't stay awake long enough to see.

7. i scream-sing songs in the car with the windows down until i
    outrun my demons and leave the memories behind like roadkill.

8. i love myself unconditionally.

- courtney l. p.