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