I'm mugging you
Seriously though, have my coffee mug.

it'd cut through my sour, orange moments, as my blue sheets remind me of you. My pastel mug wouldn't remind me of tea, but your confectionary lips in lieu.

Contrarily, I'd destroy my like for maroon and I'd never have my eyes red. I'd hate every crimson flower, and disdain every green. And I'll stay away from cherries and tangerine.

But loving you is not a condition, but an overwhelming actuality. Loving you is blue. Like the subtle and unchanging hue of the skies, the tint of the ocean and its tides, I will forever love you.

a soft kiss
a hard goodbye
a light thank you
It's a heavy time
to start anew

but somewhere in a story I heard
there was room to be found

a gentle word
a morning flight east-bound
an early lesson learned
a feather-hearted town

you stood in the center
of a cornered-room
you watched without ever looking
and let her, quietly bloom

a blanket hug
a cold drink in an old mug
a blank voice
and comfort in the noise
that tracks her like a shadow
the way she walks in uniform
with her universe
woke up, but felt worse
cannot run, when you're immersed
even if all that surrounds
is what makes you feel found

There’s a crack in my mug
There's a hole in my mouth
There’s a share for the drug
That’s pulling me south

There’s a spot on my side
Below my left arm
There’s a bruise to my pride
That’s causing me harm

There’s a thought in my head
That won’t go away
Before I am dead
I must have my say