You were as yellow as the sun
So bright it hurt to stare directly at you
Full of flowers and the smell of spring

I was as blue as the sea
Strong enough to bring you down with a single motion
But unable to stop myself

We didn't mix and make green
Instead I turned darker and so did you

I was waging wars on myself
And I can't thank you enough for trying to dull the pain
But I liked you better when you were yellow

I know it makes me a terrible person to wish you gone but you shined so much brighter in the sun.

Spilled tea and shaky hands
The silent chill spread throughout your body like lightning
The static feeling in your arms while you watch your partner fall asleep on you
Binge watching bad tv shows on a Sunday
The gut feeling that tells you to run
The friend that tells you to go for it
Mental breakdowns on the kitchen floor
An almost lover

They say "to live is to love" but if you've ever carried the weight of another broken soul, you already know that.

I remember so vividly the night you held me in your arms as I cried about everything and nothing,
I swear I can still hear you promise me you weren't going anywhere, you'll always be right here.

I can still see the look on your face only six months later when you told me that you didn't love me anymore, twisted and sad and so exhausted. I could feel my heart breaking as you added "I'm not sure I ever really did" but all I could do was stare at the dark circles that created a crater under each of your soft blue eyes. I wanted to dive into them and hide in you.

You told me you couldn't breathe anymore, that it was hard enough to carry yourself, that you weren't strong enough to save me, too.

I suppose the only difference between loving someone and living for someone is just one letter.

I told you about all the times I moved growing up,
counted on fingers that held so many hands,
I danced around with the idea of moving into you,
building my walls around our hearts and putting a roof over our souls.
I guess it didn't matter to me that our foundation was a little wobbly or that I knew an eviction was coming,
I wanted to believe that we would build a house that would last.
but you were a trap not a home,
and I was packing my bags but I couldn't get out in time
so I watched as the walls I built around you and I came crashing down on me.

Do I love you or am I lonely?
Perhaps a little of both?
I think I was a little lonely when I decided to love you and then when I loved you I felt more alone than I'd ever been.
Why don't I just leave? Oh I don't know.
I don't think I could survive another fall.

What a bitter end it is to sit across from your lover and feel nothing but rage, knowing the feeling is mutual. You still mutter "I love you" and make out under city lights and hold hands as you walk but someone always squeezes a little too hard or bites a little aggressively or is a little too snappy to believe there's anything left. It's all a game and neither of us want to lose. Going down in flames is so much more satisfying than fading away.

And I want to tell her that I understand
what it feels like to be fake, insignificant,
and a shadow on the sidewalk of society.

And I want to tell her that I also borrow
the experiences of others --
that I, too, learn feelings
by stopping and staring at personal wreckage,
like a tourist of emotions,
like an inevitable wish of a human being.