color blind truth.

listen.
i told you i was soft on words-
not that i believed lies
but you always thought that was my favorite flavor of love
and kept feeding them to me.
and i know i shouldn't have let myself care but my heart began to tell my that you might just catch me if i fell for you.
(the best liars are hearts
because you want to believe them)


listen.
you told me i was beautiful and i still don't know if it counts as a compliment when you know they don't mean it.
you bought me a pack of crayons on said,
'oh baby, you could color the world in crayola'
and i think this was code for,
'oh baby, i only know how to trace the world in black and white'
but you forgot i'm color blind.
(that's why i always thought you were
naturally beautiful)


listen.
you told me i was one way glass and you'd already taken the step in letting me see you
so now it was my turn to break the cycle, but when i tired
i only ended up sliding my fingers through blood-kissed shards of glass.
(i just wish i was a mirror
so i could finally see myself)


listen.
i told you i still had the rose you gave me in fourth grade
because i like to say it's pretending to be dead like a possum so that the wrong bird or gardener won't take it away.
you sighed and said,
'it's okay, everything will die eventually.
even fourth grade romances.'
(well what about this romance?)