Letting people blow their grey ashy clouds all around me
so that the musty scent clings to me
the way I wish you would.

Finding my hands trembling once again for a pen or paintbrush
even though I thought colour never came naturally to me,
You smiled and made me believe it did.

Gazing upwards at watercolour sunsets and pin-pricked stars
while I hold my breath and wait for you
to appear under the same sky as me.

Rekindling my affair with old tunes and aged records,
exploring the worlds of melodies yet unheard,
because I want to find you in every song.

Feeling my ribs collapse one by one around my heart in silent shame,
remembering the blurred but honest words I slurred
and realising yours didn't feel quite the same.

Blindly falling into traps I refused to see,
burning red and ashamed that I let you own me so completely,
without you ever belonging to me.