Color Drip

Some day’s I let my heart win,

Let those older colors drip their way in,

The wound is precise, in the way it reopens,

The same familiar burns reappear like old friends,

Collecting each thought that replays in my head,

Like a nightmarish loop that’s nostalgic at best,

Every new seam I’ve made an effort to stitch,

Every old phrase I’ve been trained to forget,

Every old note that your voice has played out,

Infects my soul and fills me with doubt,

How could I ever be better than you?

How could I dig myself out of this blue?

My heart plays a trick and it tells me to wait,

That sometimes the one who falls short is fate,

The timing was wrong and you’ll be back for me soon,

That you’ll whisk me away and you’ll lasso the moon,

And when those old colors slowly traipse in,

It is hard to forget that I did nearly win,

The evening was warm and your eyes begged me to stay,

So I swallowed my pride and was honest that day,

I remember your smile and the green in your eyes,

You were much too good to tell me a lie,

“In awe I am, at exactly who you are,

The grace that you carry in spite of your scars,

But there is someone who understands you better by far,

And I must confess, I don’t love you the same,

It’s regretful that I am the cause of your pain,”

I remember the day as if it were new,

When each color drips in to remind me of you,

And for a quick moment I let my heart win,

Until I remember I must move on to begin.