When I recollect the memories you left me with that day.
Trying to relish in the way you tasted – crimson red,
The way my heart squeezed as you told me you loved me – melancholy blue,
The way my breath caught when you kissed me on the nape of my neck – an indescribable hue of green.
1AM is for the hopeful thoughts of you.
When I try to paint out our future with the colours we chose together,
The crimson red of lust,
The melancholic blue of serenity,
The royal purple of success,
And an indescribable hue of green
Somewhere between an aquamarine and teal,
Where all of our favourite things exist.
2AM is for the doubtful thoughts of you.
When I begin running out of paint,
and the colour palette just won't mix out the way I need it to.
3AM is for hopeless thoughts of you.
When the flaws of us become vividly illuminated by the moonlight,
and I begin to realize that I was never much of an artist anyways.
4AM is for exhaustive thoughts of you.
When the transparency that you value so much
becomes transparent to me as well,
and I finally realize that the paint I have been working with has dried out.
5 AM is for numbness.
When I remove the canvas from the easel to hang on the wall,
Realizing only then,
That the canvas is entirely blank.
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