pantone 285
and i met you like lovers often do
in the wee hours of morning
coiled around stained pillows like a fetus
in pink-coloured dreams and you had told me
i looked pretty and i had smiled-
your warm hand had felt numb
against my cold skin
and i had asked you if this is what
love felt like.
the air was rose pink rose pink like
rock salt like
pink froot loops like
pantone six-nine-one.
and no you never loved me
i knew that but atleast i had something
to hope for to pray for
when i saw you in biology
we were dissecting frogs you had
asked what would happen if
we pulled his heart out and i had thought what
would happen if we pulled my heart out
would it still beat for you?
you had told me you loved
sky-blue skies but
professor higgins had told us to
quit chatting and work instead
you had poked the frog with the blade
and it had bled bled bled red like
my beating heart like
a blood moon like
pantone two-zero-three-five.
and then summer was over in a wink
i saw you in school with her you
were holding her hand
and i had felt empty my throat was dry like
a california beach you saw me and smiled
i tried to smile with all my strength but nothing
came out nothing. she waved to me i didn’t
wave back i’m sorry.
she showed me her new shoes
they were purple- no not purple margaret
they’re violet
say with me violet violet violet like
air filled with envy like
lilacs that die so quickly like
pantone three-eight-three-eight.
and we were at a party when you
said come with me margaret we need to talk
the balcony was chilly but i still went
you held my hand and you said margaret
we were never a thing i never liked you i’m
sorry.
i had cried in the bathroom while
the rolling stones sang
paint it black black black like
brittle charcoal like
mascara mixing with my tears like
pantone six.
and it was six in the morning
your mother was crying her heart out
on the dining table she told us
you hadn’t come back last night we
called the cops they said they’ll check
and we got a call from the hospital they
said you were in an accident that
you were drunk and you rammed
the nissan into a tree
and we rushed to the hospital we
rushed to you.
but it was too late the nurse said you died
during surgery shards of metal had
pierced your chest you
coughed blood and you had asked her
if they could pull your heart out
and replace it-
you had laughed in the
face of death in the
face of fate.
the air is warm with sorrow
the colour of grief is blue blue blue like
your smashed nissan like
sky-blue skies you loved like
grief-stricken memories like
pantone two-eight-five