Our neighbourhood was Black;
Unknown and Mysterious.
The people -- Red,

And I --
was Blue.

How can a color so different...
Mix with the rest?

They've seen my heart..
they've seen it alright.

They said it was
Grey.
a color they treated to be  
Unknown.
a vision of my true intentions
Compromised.

But I knew, inside of me,
I knew
I knew that Black and White was a feeling--
a feeling they shoved down on me
an attempt to saturate me
a feeling that I could no longer stand.

I paint.
I paint with the colors the world has shoved down on me.
And I think--
Will the world ever see me?

But just when I've ran out--
I've been saturated;
Touched with the fire and energy of Red.
Like sunsets where the Orange meets the Blue,
I painted a Lilac sky.

And the neighbourhood I once knew was Black,
Is now my White.

The funny this is
Regardless of how many cigarettes I smoke , my lungs still remember the pattern that you made me breathe

The lilac sky still holds the memories of the days where you looked up and saw a jungle in a minute number of leaves ( I always loved how you looked when you didn't try )

My hands sometimes plead and moan due to your touch being absent.

And regardless of how much time I spend on convincing myself that I do not miss you , it all comes running back.
The fact that no one will ever have me as vulnerable or innocent as you once had me .

Lastly thank you for showing me that happiness can be found in someone else , sometimes even when we are not looking for it

I apologize for my own peace of mind
And you don't even mind
You spit words that burn
Shouting my name, cursing in vain
I'm not even getting a turn.

If I could turn around and take it all back
I would run as fast as I could
away from everything
and into the black.

I apologize because I know you can't
You can't own up to what you did
All the scars and ripped up t-shirts
Here I am screaming,
I'm just a kid.

I apologize because it hurts inside
When everything you say turns into lies.
You like the colour red, I remember you telling me that.
I'm like the colour blue.

You turned me lilac,
And I apologize for that because you realized blue and red don't mix
Now it's something you can't fix
And im left a mess.

I apologize, to put my head to rest.

The wind slowly, but swiftly swaying
Against the petals of the pale lilac flower,
Beautiful yet fragile, only praying
For the storm to pass over the tall towers
Of the frightening city.
Its stem crawling closer and closer to its breaking point
As the water flows towards the river's edge; pity
On the sun's glory and shine. Disjointing
The flower's yellow belly from its furrowing leaves
As its life withers away, taken from the nature of thieves.

As we wage war with our loneliness, We must be forced to face our deepest desires.
Our deepest needs.
Out deepest unknowns.
Our deepest fears...

As we wage war with our loneliness, we must be forced to face our greatest enemy. And often times, it proves to be ourselves.

As we wage war with our loneliness, we must force ourselves to love the parts of us that we hate. When 5 am consumes you, there is no choice but to crumble under it's pressure. But we shall make like the April Lilac and bloom in beautiful praise of our constant struggle.

I write this poem in the presence of others, and I can't help but long for my own solitude.

I'm sat in a pearl 
on your lips
Mouthing sweet hymns
Of the lemon pips
That you spit from your lips
 
I'm stood in ruby
In your hair
Hearing bitter chorals 
of beetroot stalks
That you hang from your ear.

I'm struck in amethyst 
Through your pupil
Tasting great lilacs
And smelling supple, 
Subtle lavender.

Blueberry bluebells
sing, imperceptibly
sighing
against a backdrop of
quiet cerulean.

You know
it is Spring when
their hazy grasses
sprout beautifully
thick in the blades
between the primrose,
and when the sun
infuses shafts
of bronze to the lilac
through the giant
ash's baby
leaves.