Icebreaker

What nice weather we’re having. Reminds me of that day when my tears were reflected in the sky and each drop of rain ran down my windowpanes like the sounds of a microscopic militia. Marching to save me from myself, locked in a room surrounded by darkness that even the window could not consume. Like the day you left and the sun beat down so hot as if  to spite me for feeling so cold. Each breath of air was forced, trying to hide the hurt and breathing in the sun itself, tasting its rays like cayenne pepper yet so empty. I remember your favorite color was blue like the ocean, blue like the sky, blue like the way I have felt since the day you walked away. Do you remember my favorite color? Trick question, I have two. Green and Red, I know what you’re thinking, Christmas colors. The memory of a fire place dimly lit with the glimmer of a distant tree. The feeling of a cold winter and the fear of being locked outside, alone. Can hypothermia really kill you if your heart is already frozen? No, the colors hold more importance than that. Green reminds me of life! The life I wish I could live when day is too dark to see. The grass, the painted trillium which you know are my favorite flowers, and the ivy that stretches up walls and chokes the life out of any plant that gets in its way. I guess you’ve always reminded me of the ivy. The red reminds me of roses long since dead, but mummified in the tears of the beholder. The red reminds me of the blood, shed for causes I once believed in, dreams I would have once fought for, and the love I would have once died for. The red reminds me of bricks like an antique fireplace burning all night. The persistent coals fighting for oxygen. Filling the room with their heat. I used to think that was us, but all that’s left now are the cold black coals as a reminder of the fire. If you were an animal, what would you be? That’s a hard one honestly I’ve never put much thought into it, but I suppose I’d be a dolphin, so that I could once again be reminded how it felt to swim in the oceans that were your eyes, to feel the waves crashing over me, but be blissfully free from the weight of this life. A careless creature in a merciless sea, not afraid of death, but ready to embrace it. If you could go back in time to talk to one person who would it be? Myself. I’d go back and find 12 year old me still scarred from the trauma and fighting a war with himself. I’d tell him to keep fighting and to tell him things will get better, even if I know they never will. Sometimes hope is more powerful than the truth and when hope is gone people will do anything to fill that spot, I guess that’s when eating habit began. What’s my favorite food? Definitely Indian food, the spice of the curry like tiny needles across my mouth, but it’s nice to just feel something and who doesn’t love a good tikka masala?

This poem is about: 
Me

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