Red is anger, red is love. No, wait, red is disappointment, red is lust. Red is every emotion packed into one punch that leaves you gasping for air on your bathroom floor at two in the morning.  Red are your eyes when you've used all your tears on the boy who never really cared. Red is your face when your best friend stabs you in the back and red is the blood that you swear is dripping on the ground when she twists it. Red is everything you never wanted and everything you still think you need.

You told me your favorite color was orange at least three times, you loved everything about it. I never really liked it much, the fruit or the shade it was, it used to give me headaches. You said you loved the way it was part of the sunset, right before the sun hits the horizon and the colors start to blur, you loved the way it was everything all at once, and in my mind I thought, "just like you." I'd get married in an orange dress if I could spend the rest of my life with you, and I know it gives me headaches when I stare at it too long but you're like the orange sunset and I'd stare at you forever if you'd let me.

Yellow is the look on your face when I tell you I love you, and the color of the sunshine that lives in your soul. It's the favorite color of the young boy who lives across the street from me who brings me a dandelion every time I leave for work. Yellow is the color that smiles back at you on a bad day and that laughs with you on a good one. Yellow is the sun, fierce and bright, like you.

Green, I've learned, is the most greedy of colors. Green demands attention, a lot like you do, but green also represents jealousy, a lot like I do. You are the prettiest of greens, like the color of your eyes and the grassy hill we spent the day picking wildflowers and laughing under the sun. I am the green that's so dark and mixed with spite and anger and sickness. The green that's so bitter you can taste it in your mouth, and I suppose you got tired of inhaling it altogether.

Blue, I suppose, is the saddest color. It's the color of my mom's eyes and I always saw her crying after dad left. It's the color you're supposed to turn when you stop breathing because the boy you loved ripped your heart right out of your ribcage. It's the color of the sky on a beautiful day, but the soft blue horizon provides no comfort when you remember how blue you feel.