All my poems have,
a sense of betrayal.
A sense of loss.
A sense of hatred.
A sense of melancholy.
A sense of blue.
More importantly,
a sense of You.

Sometimes I feel blue.
Sometimes I see red.
Sometimes I smell orange
Or eat yellow bananas
when I get out of bed.
Sometimes I'm green with envy.
I'm sure there's indigo and violet
Somewhere in there too.
But just because sometimes the only color people see
Is the color of your skin,
It doesn't mean you don't have
A rainbow within you.

Word - blood

She's not ordinary
Her blood is blue and thick
It doesn't smear nor leave traces
Just causes her pain and makes others sick

She's truly not a witch
A descendant of lazurite
What once was a nation in Atlantis
Now a lonely remain

She's not royal
Her blood is simply not
But the way it slowly trickles
Makes the show worth a lot

So she lives in a circus
As disgusting oddity for some
Because her blood is blue
And the show of cutting is worth a ton

"Dramatic"
"Fake"
"Attention seeker"
That's what most people think,
But it's definitely not.
What's real is like when you're drowning in the middle of the sea.
You keep shouting for some "help",
But no one could even hear your scream.
When you're doing your best to stay control and live,
Even if it's so hard.
When you're bottling things up,
Because you don't want to be a "burden".
When you're crying secretly everyday,
So your loved ones wouldn't worry about you.
When you're about to outburst,
But you keep holding it,
Because there are lots of people around you.
It's not easy as what you think it is,
It's even harder than what you think,
It feels like you're slowly dying,
But still trying to live.

i sparkled a couple trillion
brain cells
one-one thousandth of a second
ago
blue sky and whippoorwill

How can you be you?
When nobody wants you.
How can you live in true?
When everybody thinks everything about you is untrue.
How can everything be okay?
When everything is in grey.

candles burn slowly
but paper burns all at once
i gather up the letters i never sent you
in my charred fingers
the scent of blood and embers
coating my breath like a chord progression

the ink that spilled from my pen so freely
melts just as painless
and through my graphite tainted tears
i hear your name in my voice
and see your skin in the fading sunlight on all hallows eve
so radiant against the decaying trees
you wouldn't let me take a photograph but
i didn't need to. i didn't need to.
i'll always remember you swathed in the golden flames
falling from the sky

the letters are really burning, now,
reminding me of how hot your skin is to the touch
no. now i can feel you under my fingertips
as i tell you about how dead serious i am about faking my death
and moving to the woods
you look so, so alive
at the prospect of pretending to die
and it's then that i realized, that you've been pretending to live
for a long, long time

and i laugh
my teeth flickering yellow with each dance of the kindling
a smile stolen from a memory
and i know that is all i will have of you
just journal entries and photos that i'll never be able to burn
like these letters
because these were just ideas of you
that floated in my head before i could make you laugh
before i memorized the way you smell in the winter
when a fire burns in your house

a fire so much warmer than this one