xviii. YOUR NAME IS WRITTEN IN THE SKY.
he asked me what my favorite color was and simply i never found interest in selecting one. my mind ran blank as he tapped his index finger to his chin, eventually blue was all he shouted. the crows feet by his eyes appeared as i nodded my head in reassurance even though i didn't find pleasure in any color. just the fact that his whole soul lit up with the idea of having the right answer, i continued along with it.
it wasn't until he left that i found blue in everything. the blue ink bled through the lines of my paper easily, the hair dye that was meant to be silver came out a tint of blue, my own eyes when i stared into my reflection echoed his name for the color is all it's known for.
even though he had left me for someone new,
blue is still my favorite color.
YOU ARE READING
on this day.
Poetryxvii, april. (ii). these words speak louder than i ever will. © playlist poetry h.r. : #55
