i wanted to write about you
like my skin was on fire,
but i don't think that a boy like you belong in poems
you taste like black champagne,
and said i smelled like hot honey and wet leaves
you promised me the red morning sky,
but you aways slept to the early afternoon
you told me that i was everything you ever wished for,
but nothing you ever needed
when you touched me i knew the difference
between breathing and living
***** fingernails, morning coffee  and peaches
reminds me of you
i've never seen such blue eyes before

Blue, I suppose, is the saddest color. It's the color of my mom's eyes and I always saw her crying after dad left. It's the color you're supposed to turn when you stop breathing because the boy you loved ripped your heart right out of your ribcage. It's the color of the sky on a beautiful day, but the soft blue horizon provides no comfort when you remember how blue you feel.