The touch of a lover

The brilliance of colour

Oh, tell me how it feels

To know that she calls

You hers?


You said to me,

“She’s only trying

To break down

My walls, and

She does it with

Vibrant color.”


But purple and blue

And red and grey

Are not supposed

To spot your skin.

The green in your

Eyes should not

Scream ‘fear’.


It is no longer

Winter as I

Cover up your colours.

But scarves cannot

Hide the punishment

That you never deserved.


So what about summer?

When the colours are

Warm and shorts

Love to be short

More than girls

Love to care

What society thinks?


Will your freckled

Skin still be icy?

Incessantly spotted

With the colours of

Her winter?


And when she goes

Too far…

When all of your

Walls have been

Broken, along with

Your bones…

Will I find you

Lying lifeless and

Alone? Asking myself

“what was her

Favourite colour?”

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