poetry

yellow

edit: this is a rant. my meds aren't good rn n it's all fucked. m sorry. ignore.

i'm sorry i'm bad at words, and that my sentences get jumbled to the point where i'm rambling nonsense to you and you try your best to understand but you just can't.

that even though what i say is crystal clear in my mind it never really comes across that way to you

that i speak of aliens and what color they are, that i speak of van gogh and did you know he used to eat yellow paint?

i'm sorry i repeat myself to the point where you want to scream shut up at me because i never stop telling you these things. that my mouth has no filter to block out the bad things my mind creates and thus i keep asking questions my own soul could never answer because i never could understand,

but maybe you could

maybe you could understand my nonsense and understand my hesitance to take my meds because they hurt

because mom doesn't want me to take them. they're pink and white and that's the color of the sky on a tequila sunrise and that's not right. they hurt my throat, that's so damaged already from how many times i've thrown up my words.

they make me not want to write

and to write is to get rid of this itching underneath the skin of my fingers and set it free through ink onto paper. the same ink that i eat because maybe it'll turn my insides black and maybe my black will be van gogh's new yellow and maybe i can be happy like he was if i eat ink

i wished for my voice to be yellow as i talked to you about this, maybe even orange. but my tone was green and icky and i hated how the bile coated my words even when i wasn't ill; how your face scrunched up in sadness and i knew i'd hurt you again so i choked on my tongue and passed out in arles with decaying sunflowers surrounding me

the sky wasn't yellow that day. it wasn't grey, either. i don't really think it was a color at all, but rather, rainy and sad and gloomy with a color i don't dare describe for i never want my mind to think of that shade again and for my tone to ever relate to that same color the sky was that day.

i'm sorry i'm not sane

but wasn't it you who told me i'm not a psychopath?