A Lovebird's Woes

Rain

Red.
The color of your eyes as you whispered sweet lullabies into my ear at night. You hadn't been crying, you simply looked sad, sometimes.
Pink.
The color of your cheeks as we exchanged loving words in a language only we understand, for ears only we wore, and all others to ignore as though it were their duty. They could never understand.
Orange.
The color of the leaves as I grabbed your hand and danced with you in the middle of the street, the fall chill never feeling so warm.
Yellow.
The color of the sun you painted in the room you had declared mine, before the sun had grown tired of the thing called "us" and went to sleep.
The color of my hair you so liked to run your hands through as we would lay in bed at night, declaring it better even than the sun you had painted, I was the ray of sunshine that was tangible.
Lime.
The color of the stalks belonging to the sunflowers you so adored. The pathways between their beds had made an excellent ballroom during the nighttime, with the moon as a disco ball and the stars as twinkling lights, illuminating the joy on your face as you cried, though from happiness, and then I knew you had changed.
Green.
The color of the forests as we ran through the night, the full moon acting as a mirror that time, illuminating the sadness reflected in our eyes as we had known the change and known it well, the looming guilt that had finally crashed down and left us with only dirtied clothes and muddy boots.
The color of the cold emerald you had given me, a momento to replace the lost moments.
Blue.
The color of hardened eyes that met a similar gaze from a source across a frigid room, scribbled upon papers between strewn along a table fit for a hundred guests.
The color of the cool pool of water suddenly the biggest separation anyone had felt, between two that once was "one".
Indigo.
The color that had replaced the yellow, in more ways than one.
The new color of the hearts that became too infused, only to be violently ripped apart.
The color of sadness, the color of guilt.
The color of lost love.
Violet.
The color of your eyes as you whispered such awful things to yourself at night. You had been crying, we both had, oftentimes.