Amaranthine (Poetry)

Synaesthesia

I'm choking on your ianthine voice,
spitting out colours of russet lies
along with fading shades of "I love you"
that used to be a clear azuline
but paled to a dull cesious.

I'm coughing up salt water
but the waves keep slamming into my lungs,
stinging my eyes and stealing my breath.
(I can't breathe, I can't breathe, I can't breathe)

My eyes are dirty paint water
and they're bleeding down my throat,
tainting everything with wasted watercolours
that never got to live up to their full potential
and as they dry on my cracked skin I-

My bones have turned brittle
after all these collisions between me and your ghost,
I can feel parts of me starting to break
and as I stare into your kaleidoscope eyes one last time I-

-I collapse into a heap of coloured glass-