This is red written poetry

Red like the dress I tried on when I thought of you

Like the wine I drank and the blood it sat in

Red like all those roses I never asked for and never got

A nostalgic red for all those conversations you hid away

Red poetry that slipped from my red lips after you spent all night kissing them

Red like the words I wanted to say

These are yellow dreams

Yellow that reminded you of daisies

In my hair they would look so beautiful

But we kept walking

Yellow like that golden path I paved to welcome you home

Like the acid you poured down my throat

To keep me quiet and help me ignore

The pain of your good byes

This is something blue

Like my veins and long showers

Blue like the moods I spent days confiding in

Like the shirt you wore that one night

And I couldn’t get you out of my mind

The eye colour you never had

I was so incredibly grateful

These are black words

On white backdrops they come straight from

My heart, my head, the forsaken place between my thighs

Sexual tension receding over the chest of another man

All the words we ever muttered, painted black like

Those pictures I drew in permanent marker

On a notepad you threw away

Black like the raw tendency of me pretending

That you’re really what I want

My colours must leave trails

Obvious and pure

I am meadows

Will you find me before I die?