Rainbow, Unrequited

They see grey.

They see my graceless form

Roaming through a gilded graveyard under the guise of a glass garden

Grimed green with the guarded envy of the guests.

Gauche, I glide, to reap the reward of her gaze but grabbing the regard of no one.

Not to my reprieve,

It is not them I am gasping to gain the attentions (affections?) of.

I am gangly and gawky, roaming with a rarely restricted gait.

I really am roving to reach her.

I reek of rotten guilt,

But guilty of what, I cannot recognize.

She does not realize why I can’t help but make a rioting fool of myself,

Or why I gamble in the unreasonable game of repeatedly ripping myself apart and allowing my ruthlessly romantic heart to run dry.

At least she respects me.

I,

Am red.

They see blue.

They see her bleeding into a blurred background,

They see balmy waves breaking upon blazing sand.

They see a bashful blush and brisk composition.

They don’t see her burning gusto or brumal grace.

She is a bitter breeze,

A biting and glacial frost that burgeons breathlessness.

She may glow a ghostly blue but glows nonetheless,

And her beaming grin blankets a barbed glare.

The burn of her glory practically bursts from behind glimmering gates

And the gentle gayety gives way to a grand and gorgeous hue.

She,

Is gold.