13/7/12

Dear God,

I could have sworn that the fog covered forest felt like

home as our car drove past it and I wondered if the blue

sky had penetrated a part of me that throbbed with pain �"

no, it wasn’t my head �" 

I mused myself with the possibility

of the sky filling my veins with its colour.

Blue wasn’t warm. It didn’t feel that way.

Blue was cold.

Blue was how I felt every day that I spent apart from him,

knowing that he wasn’t apart from her at all at that moment,

or any other moment for that matter.

Blue was the colour of the sweater I loved seeing him in,

hoping to steal it someday and bask in the musky smell.

Why can’t I stop? It’s been weeks ever since we broke up,

but God, why can’t I stop feeling blue?