Our colors are a little cloudy.
Very dusty.
Somewhat faded.
Not much luster mustered
from the same sunlight
that once bounced off of your hair
before washing over your fairer hue.
We don't talk much anymore
but I feel your tone
like that of a daily conversing.
Unnerving how concerning I become
when we do interact
I'm sure
but I feel the need to ensure
that you are better than okay.
Been away for years.
Had our share of tears.
Things we have yet find some humor in,
honestly.
Promised we our daughters
the richest portion of our rainbow
but as far as rain goes,
we've no clouds left to offer.
From sought to fought,
the thought that only one lost
is a lie the heart cannot profess.
Bright red over stress and tension.
Not to mention
what it looks like
when you look right
and I see no wrong in admiration.
Consistent fascination
even to this day.
Words hidden in stanzas
I'll likely never say
even if the chance was earned.
Dedicated pages of phrases
to my fume and fancy of you
from our large umbrella
to polka dots, jeans and boots
to pink passion fruit
as sweet in memory
as it was that night in November.
Wrote to remember the touch.
Recall the blush.
Relive the rush.
Moments we'd frequent
before it all was hushed.
The longest lasting thrill
before the moistened chill
of black that spilled like ink
with streaks of grey across my kitchen sink.
I think
and it all returns.
Every twist and turn.
Every lesson learned
and every roundabout
but well without solution
like pollution to my better wishes.
Your hips and tone in switches.
All of your favorite dishes.
Salt and Pepper tomato business
and allergies to certain fishes.
Hell this must be.
Left so much we on the table
that the world must wonder
what would've transpired.
Before scratches and rust,
Gloss replaced the dust
and we would shimmer with every kiss.
Once heard that
with every glimmer of something new,
there will be a shade or two
on which the mind will rotate
to that which only ever lasts
in the past.
Now that time has passed,
the best of our colors serve
to display our mixture in a fixture
as permanent as that picture.
Handle my colors with care
and I will remain there.
Written By: Devin Joseph Metz
but I feel your tone
like that of a daily conversing.
Unnerving how concerning I become
when we do interact
I'm sure
but I feel the need to ensure
that you are better than okay.
Been away for years.
Had our share of tears.
Things we have yet find some humor in,
honestly.
Promised we our daughters
the richest portion of our rainbow
but as far as rain goes,
we've no clouds left to offer.
From sought to fought,
the thought that only one lost
is a lie the heart cannot profess.
Bright red over stress and tension.
Not to mention
what it looks like
when you look right
and I see no wrong in admiration.
Consistent fascination
even to this day.
Words hidden in stanzas
I'll likely never say
even if the chance was earned.
Dedicated pages of phrases
to my fume and fancy of you
from our large umbrella
to polka dots, jeans and boots
to pink passion fruit
as sweet in memory
as it was that night in November.
Wrote to remember the touch.
Recall the blush.
Relive the rush.
Moments we'd frequent
before it all was hushed.
The longest lasting thrill
before the moistened chill
of black that spilled like ink
with streaks of grey across my kitchen sink.
I think
and it all returns.
Every twist and turn.
Every lesson learned
and every roundabout
but well without solution
like pollution to my better wishes.
Your hips and tone in switches.
All of your favorite dishes.
Salt and Pepper tomato business
and allergies to certain fishes.
Hell this must be.
Left so much we on the table
that the world must wonder
what would've transpired.
Before scratches and rust,
Gloss replaced the dust
and we would shimmer with every kiss.
Once heard that
with every glimmer of something new,
there will be a shade or two
on which the mind will rotate
to that which only ever lasts
in the past.
Now that time has passed,
the best of our colors serve
to display our mixture in a fixture
as permanent as that picture.
Handle my colors with care
and I will remain there.
Written By: Devin Joseph Metz
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