Green, I've learned, is the most greedy of colors. Green demands attention, a lot like you do, but green also represents jealousy, a lot like I do. You are the prettiest of greens, like the color of your eyes and the grassy hill we spent the day picking wildflowers and laughing under the sun. I am the green that's so dark and mixed with spite and anger and sickness. The green that's so bitter you can taste it in your mouth, and I suppose you got tired of inhaling it altogether.

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.

My mom told me when I was thirteen years old, that friends can really be enemies in masks and you won't notice until you're crying in your room at two in the morning because they said something that cut so deep that you think you might bleed out right there. She told me to stop talking to those people because they're going to destroy you, or even worse, they'll make you destroy yourself. What she failed to mention was that getting the poison out of your blood is so much more difficult than anyone will tell you. When I was thirteen, I brushed off her warnings and told her things weren't like that with us.  I wish I could tell myself what I know now, because it's always easier to quit before the poison hits your bloodstream.

This is a poem for you,
For all the empty "I love you's" and the even emptier apologies.  
For all the drunk kisses and sweaty hands that used to hold so much promise but now I can feel myself slipping out of them.
This is a poem for you,
For you and all of your white lies
For the way they settled in me like dust, clinging to anything that might resemble something sturdy.
This is a poem for you,
For all the ways you used to take my breath away, and the way I used to love it.
For all the ways it now makes me dizzy in the worst ways and the way your hands aren't there to catch me.
This is a poem for you,
For the way we once were
For the ways we will never be again.

You always used to complain about the smell of my cigarettes that clung to the seats of my car, so I quit smoking because I'd rather lose the things that make me calm than lose you.
You always complained about the smell of the liquor and beer on my breathe and the way it tasted in your mouth when we kissed, so I quit drinking even though it was the only way to feel normal. I'd rather lose my sanity than lose you're arms around my waist.
You wanted me to quit all the things you thought were killing me slowly, so maybe that's why you decided to leave, or at least that's what I keep telling myself. It's what I have to keep telling myself.
I've been drinking and smoking myself into ash since the week you stopped calling me and the nicotine and ***** may be helping, but you're certainly the one killing me.

It doesn't really matter if I choose to ignore you, because my eyes are always drawn to you like you're the only other person in the world and sometimes I wish I was blind because pretending to not notice you is the hardest thing I've ever had to do, but I'm sure it wouldn't do me much good because I can feel you in every bone of my body, as if you were a flame and I was paper and we got just a little too close. I swear I caught on fire the first night you kissed me but for some reason I haven't fallen to ashes on the floor yet, but jesus **** I wish I could.

You can't give your heart away to every boy who calls you beautiful. He won't call you the next night and soon enough you'll be wondering why your heart is empty while you cry in the bathroom. You can't change everything about yourself so the people you call your friends accept you. You'll look in the mirror one day and won't recognize the person staring back at you and I promise you that it will be the scariest moment of your life. You have to learn to love who you are, flaws and all, or one day you're going to forget who you used to be before you thought you weren't enough and when you finally figure it out, it's going to be too late.