Green
Like Spencer's eyes, sometimes
When he was just high enough
And the fluorescent lights could only emphasize
His poor, bloodshot lids
But deeper
Like my favorite t-shirt
With a tiny hole in the sleeve
From the time Bren grabbed me through the fog of a nightmare
And I had brushed his rose petal lips with my fingers
And stroked his face until he fell calm
And yet,
Harsher
Like the broken bottles in the kitchen
From when I was sixteen
And scared
And lonely
On which I sliced my wrists once on accident
But it felt good
So I did it again and again until I couldn't stop
They shared a joint on the ratty couch
Plaid, ugly, like my great-uncle's kilt
Beaten like his wife
And the way he leaned in a little too far
The way his hand rested on Spence's thigh
Locked me into place
A pawn,
A fool,
A ghost
I had some broody words strung together
I had a crush
Spencer had energy, life, soul
He had Brendon
And I was green
