You became a better man from the fruit of my suffering.

It added some color to your cheeks though you still had pieces of me in your teeth..

I stuck with you through hues of red and blue, and for a time I was bright and yellow...you almost wrote back in a similar color.

I’ve been with you through thick and thin, smooth and rough, loud and quiet, and we held on despite the odds we held on.

You bask in the light now, all petals anew.

What did I gain from it but except a few new scars?

Everyone now admires you.

While my color fades and shrivels, you glow in delight.

It’s my fault I’m all alone
I should have known I wasn’t the one  because you can’t stand to look at me.

I carried you high and lifted you up and I let myself drown in the process.

Coughing and gasping with an outstretched limb

I remind you of your shadow; your darkest chapters.

You’re on land and you’ve left me to rot like just another memory.

I should have realized I was just your plot device.

Maybe
Just maybe one day I'll acclimate enough little yellow butterflies in the depths of your stomach to spark words of
passion
longing
excitement
from the tips of your long capable fingers
I'll collect enough of the color yellow.
Maybe it would one day be stronger than my  growing green?
Maybe one day it will hurt less to think of you,
or to talk about you
Perhaps the yellow will give us more time
The Yellow.
more memories and laughs
to show you
That you are seen and that you are heard
And that it's no use to use your words
so many words
on earthly sun-soaked terracotta or frayed and faded blue
I look into your deep hurt eyes framed with lace and promises
I gave you red and I'm painting with yellow now
please accept my yellow
I grew it in my chest just for you
Just to plant the warm glowing cocoons deep into your stomach
Hoping
They just might become butterflies and we can live our lives together hand-in-hand.
Maybe once they emerge it won't hurt so much anymore and you will smile.
And maybe, just maybe after a while you'd realize you don't need to keep using your words for girls who never cared to hear your heart that beated yellow with all it's might
Who never reciprocated with the strength of the yellow you gave them.
My chest
it now hums and glows with much yellow
a perfect place to rest your head, my Love.

I will never be enough for anyone I adore.

I am solid and hard. Stone.
Hot-- filled with tension
My restless burning body ebbs  and flows with brightness.
Slow turning embers of excitement.
Your soft wet lips mold and mash themselves into my form
Cool, sharp, teeth sinking.
Releasing
Steam hissing and emerging as embers of my glowing figure float upward into the ceiling.
Tensions are easing as you keep squeezing.
Gasping
I feel my eyes widen and thighs tighten.
Realizing
I am no statue of hardened magma.
Your fingers caress the hills and valleys of my  body.
Breathy sighs, pleading eyes, squeezing at the thickness of thighs
I remember at your grasping  hands of hunger
I remember
I remember that I am soft.

You don't need to sneeze rubies and diamonds
You don't need to cough out pearls
Nor have the golden touch of King Midas
To be able to spin my world

No need to vacation in China
To let a few tigers loose
Or fly in on a magic bus
For me to notice you

You don't need to be the president
Or some international spy
On me all your money need not be spent
For me to want you in my life

You don't have to hold onto your breath
And turn the deepest shade of blue
Or at my dumb jokes laugh and laugh
For me to want to love you

For the common cold you don't need to find the cure
Or the perfect mouse trap
You don't need to bring peace to this world
For me to need to hold your hand

All you need to be is yourself
And to that self hold true
Because all I need above all else
Is to be madly in love with you

I pack my bag. A girl approaches me.
"I love your jacket! "
/I hate my life./
"Thank you! Me too!"                  
I hurriedly make my way across the side walk.
" I really like your boots."    
/I really don't like being alive./
" Thanks! They were at Target!"
I glance at my tattered agenda.
" I wish I could do make up like you!"
/I wish I would get hit by a car. /
"Aww, thanks! You can always try watching YouTube makeup tutorials for help!"            
/I seriously need help./
I scribble doodles in the margins of my notes.
" I wish I could draw like you!"
/I wish I could have my life together./
" Thanks, but it's  predominantly in practicing. Draw like you, instead!"
I crumple papers with shaking hands.
" I dig your sense of style."                
/ I wish I had my sense of direction./
"Thanks, that makes me feel nice!"
I dig the dirt beneath my jagged nail.
" You always look so cute."
/ I always look for reasons to not **** myself./
"Awh, thanks! I try."
I slouch into a computer chair.
"You look tired."
/I'm tired of  my life./
" I'm actually not. I just have naturally dark circles under my eyes, is all."
I glance up at a familiar face.
"How are you?"
/I'm drowning./
"I'm ...surviving. ."