Is your favorite color always going to be blue?
Blue, like my eyes?
Or blue like the way I made you feel when I told you you were wrong?

Blue like the ocean around you I didn’t save you from?
Or blue from the little pencil you always used to carry around?
Blue like the notebook you couldn’t bring yourself to write in anymore?
Or blue like the sky is right after it rains?

Blue like the rain on a day where you can’t bring yourself to smile?
Or blue like the bottomless of the pool where you first thought of me seeing you in a swimsuit?

Is it blue like you always wanted the walls of your room to be?
Blue like your favorite book cover, the one without a hole in the front?
Blue like your favorite pair of jeans, the ones you wore so much the insides of the legs started to rip?

No.
My favorite color of blue was the sky after you were gone.
The blue that was lit up by the sun.
The blue that made me remember who I was.
And that I didn’t need you anymore.