Your favorite color is green
This has nothing to do with the color of the grass
Or the color of your favorite socks
Instead it wraps itself around your inability to be happy until you’ve spent your money on fake company
Planting seeds in your brain of all the ways your life could be better with
New clothes
New girls
New drinks
Manipulated so heavily that you cannot even consider pulling yourself out of this loop
You’re too focused on all the other things you could get up to

Trust me babe
You can hate me
And it’ll be okay
Because *******
At least you never stopped loving me

My brain has its own form of colorblindness
Refusing to see anything other than monochromatic shades of black or white
You're either something that i cannot possibly be around another minute
Or i don't want you to leave
It can go from content
To barely controlled anger
In a matter of seconds
But what's worse
Splitting or depersonalizing
How am i supposed to know when i mix them as often as others mix their drinks?
How can my own thought process be just as flawed as my vision?
How am i supposed to tell whether you hate me or not?
How do i think in anything other than extremes?

Count

Count the seconds you hold your breath when her name is mentioned

Count the seconds between i love you and i want to leave

Count the seconds from when the tub filled up to when your brain began to go fuzzy

Count the seconds until you forget what number even comes after one

Count the seconds until they shift into hours or days or years of wasted time

Count the seconds until  you run out of time left to count

Count

Because it's the only thing you have left anymore

There’s nothing between
me
          and
        you
Except c e n t i m e t e r s

Of open air
and
Compared to
Y
      E
           A
    R
          S
Of emotional baggage
That’s a distance that’s easy to overcome

I don't want to be your everything

I just want to make you want to experience everything


I want to be the reason you look up at the stars at night
         and still dream of all the things you could do

The words
Like a melody of chords
Played on a broken piano
That trickled out of her mouth
Like they were the only truth she knew
Still
They decide to visit me
In the hollows of my nights
While i shudder on bathroom floors
Or under shower streams
Mind circling
Around every person
Who’s ever hurt me
And i remember
Every time
These words
Send me running
To a girl
Who spends way too much
Of her time
Reassuring me
That i’ve never been
Anything less than okay to her
But still
Im mumbling
Apology
After
Apology
And
Begging her to run
Because *******
How could those words
Come so easily from her
If they aren’t true
How could she call me that
As if it’s my own name
Assigned to me on a useless sheet of paper
If it isn’t what i am
And i know that
The two of them are not
One
And
The same
But
If she considers me so
Then who’s to say you won’t as well