He loved a girl once.
And she loved a boy once.
But she didn't love him, though he loved her.
He called her Blue.
Her hands, her jeans, her eyes, her dreams, everything was blue.
And he was yellow.
But yellow doesn't mix well with blue, does it?
Yellow and blue turns into green,
Green like envy, green like jealousy.
She wasn't his, and never would be.
But he had thought, a long time ago, that maybe green would be the colour of life, the colour of pine forests home to the wild and the colour of precious emeralds.
She was blue.
Blue like the sea, that was so cold, so deep, and so silent.
Blue let him sail on her waves for a while, but it never meant that she wanted him to stay.
Yellow and blue, don't look good together.
He was red.
And Blue loved Red.
Because when blue and red touch, purple comes to life.
The colour of dusk, lilacs, and perhaps, cotton candy.
But sugar rots your teeth, and dusk means that the light is dying.
Blue and red, could never last very long.
He touched her, and suddenly, she was a lavender sky, but then he decided, purple just wasn't for him.
And now she's grey, her hands, her hair, her eyes, her jeans, she's so devoid of colour she doesn't know what it means.
But she was Blue, she used to be blue.
And now he's blue, his hands, his jeans, splashed with the colour blue, he stole from her sea.
He's blue, everything was blue.
But everything was grey, her dreams, her life, her heart, and the only thing that was blue was the pills in her hands.
And now she's blue, she's blue again, lying on her bedroom floor, waiting for the sky to take her away.