blue-tactics

the sun used to know a place on my cheeks, a kiss of warmth; it burned with fire every minute; a hole burned into my brain as I replayed it over and over again. it almost hurt, especially when i knew how much i've stretched this elastic fabric. it's slowly beginning to tear. i've tried much too hard to placate what's left of this worn cloth. i tore it.

so i asked you if you could see what color it was with my finger pin pointing the object. you said it was green; i looked at you, my eyes brown and staring at you when i could see your heart avoided my piercing stare. i bit my lip and told you, "yes, it's green." because there was nothing else for me to say, and even if i did, you probably wouldn't remember. like that time i asked you if you remembered what today was, and you said, "today is the day i paint that room white." so i looked at you, bit my lip and said "yes. i'll help you." and that time when i took the letters from the drawer, reading them, i asked you, "do you r