You might not know this.
But you made everything
Beautiful.

My memories of you and I
Are tinted a bright, rosy pink.
The color of happiness
And carelessness
And pure,
Helpless,
Innocent
Love.

They're filled with yellow sunshine
Flooding through your car windows,
Which wasn't the only source of our warmth.
Dark, blue rain gently pattering
Against our heads as you held me,
Washing away any and all notions
Of a world that didn't involve you and me together.
And flustered red cheeks pressed against my head, in relief,
When we spoke for the first time
And remembered all that we had lost
And would try so hard to never lose again.

And quite frankly,
Knowing life through a pale pink,
But having to see it through black and white,
Now,
Is so very unsatisfying.

Yellow is still the color of sunshine,
But I'm cold now.
Dark blue has not always been
The exact hue of my eyes.
And my red cheeks come out late at night,
When my liquid courage helps me forget you.

I suppose that,
With this logic,
I never knew beauty before you,
And will not know it any longer.