your name is only whispers now,
everyone too afraid to talk.
you started showing your true colors,
the blacks and browns instead of your usual orange.

though, when we were together, i saw all the murkiness of you.

you were swampy and grouchy when you wanted to be,
but isn't everybody?
i guess not you,
the poster child i grew to love.

"i'd die if i become someone everyone didn't expect me to be."

"but you wouldn't be alive if you become what others wanted."

"i really fucking love you."

is how our conversations would go in the middle of the night when you'd call, because you knew i was up crying as well.

how i was struggling to know that it's okay to feel so much feelings,
for it's what makes us human after all.
and that if i liked doing something i should keep it to myself,
our else people will shove it down my throat;
expecting me to become great at my hobby which i'll get tired of because of the fun that's left my being.

"i finally told you why i'm crying."

"you're just feeling bad for yourself."

and just like that i saw the murkiness behind your bright orange.

and just like that,
i began involuntary loving all of your colors.


sadly all my love poems(?) are about one person.
if you liked this one there's other sad ones.
react if your sad lol.