Ranting

Now for the poem

so I wrote this poem, and was going to read it at a comp. , but we'll get to that later

Rainbow girl

I saw a girl and fell into the ever repeating promise,

The rainbow that shines when you look through precariously stacked glass *almost as fragile as the heart beating inside you Like looking through a prism, you know will break

She emitted every color that was visible to the human eye, and doubtless some that weren't. * her color radiation seeped into my skin, glided through my veins, and poisoned my heart with the alarm red color of her love* She was wearing Blue converse*

Not soft blue, not sky blue, not a safe blue

They were drug blue, shark blue, battery acid blue

With her electric high tops, a black legging

But not a midnight black, not a lurking under the bed black, not an FBI car that has something to hide black

It was a warm black, panda black, a calming black,

She was nearly drowning in a 'battleship' grey sweatshirt, like the smell of rain,* with the word NAMA written across the front in the bold letters that were the color of snow, like a statue of Aphrodite,* Like the keyboard she used to hack her way into the sick green letters on black hole screen of my heart* reprogramming it to beat for her.

Around her neck was a pair of lilac headphones, * the kind you get at a toy store, but end up using for yourself. A smooth finish, almost face tuned, to perfect to be real.

She looked at her phone with glasses that were a glowing brown, a color you could trust, speckled with homey spots of yellow, like glinting prices of Gold at the end of her rainbow

She looked up at me and Her eyes were 'the color wheel', spinning around until the only color Eye could see was the color of stars. When the wheels stopped spinning they were the color of a sunset *Rust like Mars an out-of-this-world experience, *Amber like the fall I would fall for her *Fire Yellow like the sun that could bring a 'fan girl pink' to my cheeks.

She stood up broadcasting a confident navy admiral like the sheen on a trophy, an ornate amethyst like neon tubes in the night, an all inclusive rainbow like the rays off a stained glass window.

She suddenly turned away, and looked at someone. He had walked up while i was invested in her marching band of color

He was pretty good looking, i guess*

I saw the iridescent flash of what looked like a shimmering gold ring on a silver chain *and saw her hands fly up in amazement, cupping his face, her nails a starch white, like the color my face was turning

He looked into her spectrum eyes, and kissed her lips

The action makes my chest bloom with a vile feelling, that makes me cringe on the inside and on the outside. I can't move with the heartbreak of it all,

The light tunnels so the only thing i can see is her and him, the way it was always meant to be. The way everyone tells me it should be,

Even though, all the light was on them, they were dim, bleak,

She looked happy, but with the shading on her face, it was difficult to tell

his eyes might have been gleaming, but from my view they were just dark

I closed my eyes because i couldn't turn my head, and maybe it was an illusion, a trick of the light, but i could have sworn that i saw the caramel apple of my eye and Expecting a sweet rush of sugar, I bite in but receive a bitter, sour, yellow taste

The apple is an irritating orange, an unpleasant green, a lousy white, a distasteful purple, a sickening brown, an inferior black, a grungy blue.

These thoughts snap my eyelids open so fast i fear i might lose them

Or, like that old wives tale, they might get stuck there, unmovable as i am now

The light floods me like when you enter the world after trying to escape it in the cinema, or wholing yourself up to work on a project you know will never leave your notebook.

She breaks the kiss and they walk past. my head, conveniently moveable now, follows her every move and she moves on past me in all her rainbow glory, trying to blind me with her smile,

That smile tells me a trophy is just a piece of plastic honoring a forgotten memory, neon tubes can advertise carnage, a stained glass window can hurt when it is shattered, and when the almost impenetrable glass of your heart comes crashing down, there is no more rainbow

ok, so my mom found this poem and she said that I shouldn't read it because I would hurt myself in ways I didn't understand and she suggested that I change the pronouns to he/him

so im not going to do that

im going to change them to they/them, so you can't tell who im talking about

collio sighning off