We were in the presence of a
dying lemon sun and
he was my baby blue sky.
I tried to convince him to stay
by giving him
every piece of me:
I traced his darker, indigo, bruises
with burgundy lipstick covered kisses.
I turned corners of his steel blue speckled skin,
shades of celeste with my beige hands.
I shimmered his favorite features
with the golden highlights of my hair.
I washed the blush from my cheeks
into his deepest shadows.
I hoped that if knew he had me,
he'd find a reason to stay.
But instead I turned my love
into a bittersweet sunset.
He left with every piece of me.
I had made him complete
by tearing apart the the puzzle of me.
I'm now an achromatic mess.
A display of voids filled with grey,
like cement used to quickly fill
sidewalk holes.
All because I wanted him to love me.
YOU ARE READING
Poems
Poetry"I know that sometimes for people, I feel like too much; But let me kiss away the phantom pain that the scars remind you of, Let me kiss the burns on your hands, From when you touched the burning fire within my soul. Let me show you that yes, I am...
