I can hear the coldness in my eyes doing the speaking for me.
Usually takes so long for them to get in the conversation,
Red always stage dives right into the middle of matters.
But here I am, glowing shades of cerulean and indigo
Dot the highlights of the expectations I’ve left unmet.
I don’t know why, or where, or how,
But let’s just leave them.
Neglect is the icy blue fire that fuels my unamused acumen.
My hair drops shades of color,
Slime starts protruding from my pores,
And I sink.
And I write.
I’ve learned so well to cope and love in isolation.
Such an obnoxious extrovert and I’ve learned to love
Tickles in my left thumb,
“You’re not good enough”
I dance a sullen waltz across the floor,
Changing in triplet with lovers to be
Before motion sweeps me away from them.
I hope they all don’t think they’re not good enough.
But to be that kind of honest we’re afraid to get,
The kind that stings your eyes with painful contradictions to your wishes
I can’t be anywhere involved with someone whose company makes me feel empty.
But I’ll always love myself,
So I keep writing and forgetting,
Marking my memories in these sullen elegies,
So I don’t have to hold on.