you are the warmest yellow,
and the coldest blue.

your burnt orange is the blazing fireplace,
in our cozy little home.
your hunter green is the clumps of grass,
that our children's bare feet will touch for the first time.
your pale purple is the dress that I will wear,
on our anniversary date night.
your indigo blue is the 2am,
that I roll over to see your closed eyes next to me.
your maroon red are the blisters on your hands,
when you come home from a long day at work.
your deep grey is the smooth countertops,
that I sit on while you kiss me.
the ash black is the comforter on our bed,
that we lay chest to chest under.

your colors paint our future,
and they are oh so beautiful.

m.e.

and i guess i am selfish. because i really, really want you to be happy, always. i wanna see that smile that made me fall so hard for you. but i dont wanna see you happy if its with another person. i dont want you happy holding someone elses hand. i dont want you happy celebrating an anniversary with someone else. and i definitely, definitely dont want you to be happy, in love with someone else. because i want to be enough for you, i want you to feel your most excitement and wholeness and inner peace with me. i want you to be in love with me. i cant just be all poetic and beautifully tragic about it. i cant just think "i want you to be happy, even if thats not with me," because its not true. i want you to be happy, and i want to be the person that makes you happy. its as simple and frustrating as that.

troubled soul
let me hear all of your secrets
the ones youve let pile up and up
pour them into me
i swear i’ll listen to every single one
i want to know what put those bags under your eyes
and why youre so scared of falling in love
tell me why your dad screamed at you everyday when you were little
and tell me how it felt when that one person broke your heart
explain to me why your brain feels scattered when you try a math problem
and tell me that the reason you like the piano so much is because each key holds a piece of your heart.
let me know it all
let me store it up for you
you deserve some weight lifted off those shoulders of yours

i knew i had to leave him
not because i didnt care, because God knows I did.
but because he didnt inspire me
no words of love came to me when i looked at him
i did not think it was adorable how his nose was crooked
i did not think the way his hair flopped over was imperfectly perfect
i did not think that even in his saddest, angriest, or generally unhappy states that he was still somehow wonderful in a jaw-dropping, ‘god youre still so perfect even like this’ way.
i write poetry, thats what i do
and all i could write about him was how supportive and comforting he was.
it became one sided
being near him was draining;being with him was a chore.
i was becoming the type of person
that he would be writing the sad words about
i was giving him the distance
he could feel in his heart
even when we were together.
and i couldnt continue on like that
i couldnt let myself become a monster to him
one of the monsters even i write about at night.