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Description
he is a boy devoid of sharp colours, rises
like a distant sun fragmented through city
smoke plumes, he paints skies grey, he
dilutes turquoise seas, he is always a shade
of nothing. his girl, she dresses him in clown
colours, masks the void with scarlet smiles
and peacock feathers, but the hues all fade
under his watercolour touch. i used to love
him, but he stripped even the lightest shades
of happiness down to something faded,
something missing. dreams in greyscale,
life in sepia, i ate blood oranges and painted
my skin pomegranate and clashed so
beautifully with his frown i think he forgot to
cry when i left, dressed in theatre costumes
and his girl blazing by his side, her seeing life
rose-tinted, him as anything but miserable and
me as something more dangerous than
depression.