she had always said
her favorite color was yellow
for the girl with buttery skin and crystal eyes
it seemed rather fitting
yellow was the color of sunshine
and the color of her hair
after it had been bleached by summer
it was the color of the bumblebees
that drank from her favorite flowers
flowers that now
line her grave

she told you
her favorite color was yellow
because she knew you needed someone
radiant with light
to ease the depth
of your own darkness
so she said
when autumn arrived
you could watch the ground
become littered with yellow leaves
together

when you asked what color
lie beneath her skin
she told you it was yellow
she made herself believe
her body was freckled from stardust
and not from the amber glow
of cigarette burns
she still said
her favorite color was yellow
so she could continue being the light
in your colorless world

soon enough
your favorite color was yellow too
but not for the same reasons
she fell in love with it
you only saw yellow vaguely
in the form of teeth
stained from tobacco and too much coffee
smiling grimly through cracked lips
dripping poisoned honey
you guilded the word ¨love¨
with muted ochre lies

and now
she no longer feels the warmth
that once emanated
from her favorite color
she no longer tastes
the sweetness of butterscotch
and papaya on your lips
for you left her with nothing but
the sour residue of lemons and bile
as your gentle breath
extinguished her golden flames
and reduced her heart to ash

and now
she realizes that bumblebees
can also administer a piercing sting
and as she watches the sunset
with its amber hues
she no longer sees
the color yellow


x.

to love a poet
is to know immortality
for your name
will never cease
to flow from her lips

and she will forever hold
her pen gently
for her hands are scarred
with remnants of you

What if it rained daisies today?
And no one got wet
and nothing washed away?

What if the sun shone bright
as daisies flew?

What if the breeze blew
soft daisies like spinners
in the wind?

Would we all be happy then?

Why are the ones who actually want the heart the last ones we'd ever give it to?

Hey mom-dad, listen.
Hit me, hate me, throw me out,
But don't shut me up.

You left me broken.

Because of you I judged myself a little harder.

Reasons you loved me were now the things I wanted to change.

Out of all things, you used my vulnerabilities against me.

Kindness was used as a weakness, but you were too. My love was taken for granted.

Even though I still loved you for a while afterwards i finally realized my worth.

Not only was i broken, but i was growing. And the new me was glowing. And the part of my life without you i just couldn't wait to show it. My confidence was my new strength and I had you to thank.

All because you left me.