Your blues blended with my reds and it made a nasty bruise.

You scream blue. Always sad. You live in the sky and drop tears like rain. The salt soaks through my skin and makes everything taste bitter.

I bleed red like everything else that has a heartbeat. It’s the color I see before my dreams greet me. It’s the color caked between my teeth as you try to throw another swing. It’s the color that means stop, don’t go that way.

Blue is the bench that we sat on at the ice cream shop. You told me how you were always jealous of my smile and how it feels contagious.

Red is your first car that we drove past curfew. Creeping down alleyways that made my heart speed up for the sake of being paranoid. Maybe I never was. Maybe we were always in some type of danger. Maybe you knew it all along too.

Now my bruises are turning yellow like the sun. And I guess that’s a sign of healing. I don’t have the guts to ask you how much you’ve healed- maybe there’s a part of me that doesn’t care like how I used to. maybe the blue is leaving me for good. Maybe you should have warned me of how bad that could ache.

Watch you walk in circles down dangerous alleyways that lead back to the same people and the same bruising and the same sadness. And every time I see you I whisper gently, “stop, don’t go that way”, whether you choose to hear it or not. AMT