It's midnight and I am tired but the boy on the other end of the line is not and like him too much to hang up. So I write to keep my eyes from closing. Exploring the most unconscious parts of my mind since my filter stopped working at 11:11PM.
Why is my dad still awake? He's going to work himself to death.
Why do I let the weight of my friends drag my heart straight out of my chest?
Why do I hate vanilla milkshakes but when he drapes his arm across my shoulders and offers me a sip of his it tastes like heaven and cherry lip balm?
Why can't I say "I love you" back without that split second hesitation? Never contemplating if I love you back, but if you meant it when you said it.
Why does "try and get some rest" come off as a threat when I just mean don't die trying to live for other people?
I do not want to be a single shade of color in your world, I want to be the light that makes colors possible. Somewhere in the Bible I've never touched but have had quoted to me my whole life, it says in heaven there are colors we cannot even dream up but I swear to a god that may or may not exist, I have seen those colors in your eyes.
Indescribable.
I cannot even imagine them now. I just know they were that night in the pizza shop when you leaned back to check I hadn't fled, and I hadn't. Not yet. You and that damn baseball cap, pulled down low over your eyes.
What were you hiding?
What are you now?
