Tell me every terrible thing you did, and let me love you anyway

I dont want to rhyme. I dont want to whine. Every time I lift up my eyes to scan the wall of memories above me, I stop. I stop at the sight of your not so somber eyes, the creases on your cheeks as you smile.

Now I’m combing through the braids of lies. “I’ll never leave.” Never mind.

My skies don’t scream anymore. Or perhaps there’s a masquerade of clouds that has learned quite well to hide the tainted colors you splashed across.

I wrote less frequently cuz you calmed down the storms. I stopped writing cuz you stirred them up again. They turned into hurricanes as you tore apart the pages of us and threw away the pen while my eyes kept scanning your face for the tiniest shred of somethings, somethings that we’d shared, as you’d buried your face into the crook of my neck when I held back all my tears and all the fears that kept gnawing at my skin but I swore to hold you close, even through the terrible things.

and I still do. but this time I swore not to let myself show you the ruins and the hurricanes and how I’m still somewhere caught up in our world so strange, a little alone, a little arcane.

You were red and you liked me ‘cause I was blue. But you touched me and suddenly I was a lilac sky. And you decided purple just wasn’t for you.