Aunt May, what’s it like to have loved and lost?
"I'll tell you, kid.
It's like catching a brick with your stomach,
Like fighting a fever sprawled out on a tin roof,
Like finding a needle in a slice of lemon cake,
With your mouth.
It's like going barefoot for a walk in the snow,
Like hiking in Sudan with only mustard to drink.
Like finding maggots in an open wound,
Like pushing the Q-tip too far into your ear.
It is the loneliest feeling in the world,
The most hollow hole in your heart.
I swear you wouldn't even believe it,
You just can't imagine how bad..."
She sat there then with the cigarette burning away between her bony fingers.
"If it's really so bad, then why would you want to love at all?"
She turned to me, with the tiniest hint of a smile in her eyes.
"Come now, enough talk, time for bed."
Color
Red is a hot color, often mistaken for anger. But in reality it is passion, burning hot as it drives us forward, fueling us, spurring us on when other things fail.
Pink is soft and mellow, a color for love, for tenderness. It is a gentle touch, the caress of a lover, the cooling breeze that rescues us from a hot summer day.
Green is a safe, familiar comfort. It is the thing that you return to, the place where you lay your head, the harbor in the storm where you gather your strength before the next journey.
Yellow is the warm touch on your cheek when you go outside. It's the friend that you know best, because it greets you every time you go outside. It's touch is comforting and rich, it's the thing that gives you strength to face the day.
Blue is the cool refreshment in the middle of the day. It's the respite, the brief moment you have to yourself to recharge and begin anew. It's the cool drink that quenches your thirst when you need it most.
These colors are experienced by all, whether they've seen them or not. If you've felt passion, drive, or determination, then you know red. If you've felt tenderness, compassion, or love, then you know pink. If you've felt familiarity, comfort, or the peace of home, then you know green. If you've felt quiet strength, readiness, or assurance, then you know yellow. If you've felt relief, repose, or soothing respite, then you know blue. You have experienced the colors as we have, even if it wasn't with your eyes.
words like constellations
Your words like constellations
turned into stardust.
They lingered
through the galaxy
that is my mind.
Your touch like moonbeams
lit me up inside.
Felt bright like the stars
but even they die.
To my misfortune,
I was merely a satellite
revolving through space.
You were a meteoroid
headed my way.
We collided.
We shattered.
That was our fate.
Damn the black hole
that devoured our pieces.
Left no trace,
we've been completely erased.
Colorblind
My black and white life
Turned technicolor with your love
We kissed and the sky exploded
Gray clouds burst open,
Shooting sunbeams like lasers
Fiery shades of orange, red and pink
Coating the grayscale ground below
The oceans are swirling rainbows
Giving birth to baby rivers of gold
And lakes and streams where water flows
In magical mint shades of green
Waking up the grass in majestic purple shades
And the trees in brilliant blue
Everywhere I look, the world is new
Brazen and bold and bright
Beautiful
Just like you and me
Night falls and shining diamonds are stars
Moonbeams like pearl rays
Shine on us like a spotlight
We're dancing on golden streets
Spinning with prisms of color and light
The world is magical
I never knew life could be this lovely
Until you leave
A switch is flipped
The symphony of colors goes silent
The earth returns to colorblind infancy
White clouds in gray skies
Black trees and gunmetal oceans
And its dismal and dreary
Now that I've seen the brilliance
The gray is unbearable
The gray is lonely and mean
Tears pool unnoticed
Drab as everything else
A spark on a blade gives me hope
A cut, there's color!
My blood is maroon
My blood is the only color remaining
In the grayscale world you left me in
Corners
Corners, where two edges find each other
are a meeting place where boundaries,
otherwise separate,
intersect, merge, change each other’s course
and then dead end.
Corners set the boundaries that edges can only hope to do.
You can follow a wall with your fingers.
Walls are not immune to touching.
But, when you touch a corner
it is hard to you, resists you, is not seduced by you.
Edges passively go with the flow of your hand
but, corners say, “halt.
None shall pass.
Not even you.”
And the corner is not unforgiving.
It creates a pocket for you to slip into
if you need it,
if you can no longer keep running your hand
along the same yellow wallpaper.
That pocket is like your mother’s womb:
Surrounded by only two walls
yet providing the shelter of a darkness
that resists even the light of an open door.