done in love

maybe i should eat
yellow paint
and try, always strive
to be happy

not sweeten my sadness
with splenda, fake
sugar like flowers
on my head growing
with petals, such knives

arms like leaves, falling
down to you, sweep me over
again, towards you, back
to the floor, reaching out
to touch your hand, give
me my self back

and draw, like van gogh
with charcoal, dark
staining my fears, my
sheets light over burnt
dreams died away, carried
by your voice, your smile
big over your face
even whiter on my eyes

but no, calories
make me hot, let me
believe you’re still here
there’s still hope
you’ll come back, and we’ll
meet again, for the first time

so i avoid them
i drink bitter coffee, chew
tea leaves on my molars
constriction of love
forgotten memories of a life
never had, only imagined,
now dead

maybe i should listen
to birds chirping, grass
rushing past rifts
and find a rhythm, not
interrupted anymore
like my thoughts, for you
for plans i dared, now want
to neglect, like a spell

yet there’s your face
like yellow paint
like hope for the best
and i fall down, dry
once again, with a kiss
blown in distance, in my mind,
by your lips


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