Misted Thoughts

I See You

I see you, everyday
Watch her while she knows how you do.

With your chest heaving the sighs of how yesterday could have been a prettier day if only you had called her.

The hues of blue in her hair match the ones in your eyes. But the ones in your eyes have specks of green.

Specks of green that nobody really bothers to pay attention to, except me. Because it's not the blue that swallows me whole and makes me burst into color.
It is the green that makes me want to scratch at the patches in my body and make me whole again. Just for you.

Your smiles start with her name written cursive on them, blocking your idea of what could have taken birth - you could just tell her.

But what wonders would it do if you didn't. Because I will have the capacity to capture your eyes with every one of my smiles.

Give me a chance.

I would make you feel what blue and green could do together, maybe take a walk around the center of the universe. I would show you naked joy and stripped words with absolutely no amount of butter melted honey glaze. I would show you raw effort and maybe you would show me yours.

Give me a chance.

The veins around your sculpture don't  burn with the purpose of life. Rather, they are a reminder of how you need her in your arms, put her to sleep, make it count. They are a constant pulsation of introspection to fuel the amalgamation of the both of you.

Words. You use your words well. You choose your words well. Sometimes I have a habit of turning clay and molding myself along the skeletons of those words. Sometimes I try and mold myself along what you thought faith would mean. Sometimes, I just want to stare.

At the blue of it all. At the green in my veins. At the yellow in her. At the indigo in mine.

Sometimes I just think. What wonders would it do if I just, just told you.