I guess God is punishing me
because the days that are marked
by coalescing shades of orange,
pink, red, blue,
are the days that seem to **** the oxygen
right from the air I need.
the way the sky gets
beautiful, purely and immensely
(and it’s not like you get used to them
these devious sunsets
they only get more stunning as the days pass)
I can only see the beautiful things
reflected in those
God forsaken
honey
gold
irises
—
it makes me want to scream,
the way I’m missing pieces of myself,
the way that the sun keeps setting,
painting gold across the sky,
no matter how many times I tell it not to