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Feb 2015
Just maybe one day I'll acclimate enough little yellow butterflies in the depths of your stomach to spark words of
from the tips of your long capable fingers
I'll collect enough of the color yellow.
Maybe it would one day be stronger than myΒ Β 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
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 felt sad before, yet now I feel a sense of hopefulness. Lightness, if you will. Maybe I'm an idiot?
Marina Morales
Written by
Marina Morales  Louisiana
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