Grief Written

I have holes in my jeans and bandaids poking out of them, And I know that seems insignificant, But the bandaids are from falling down and scraping my knees. And sometimes when I find myself on the ground I think about you because you never made me get to my feet, you used to hold me up, or wait until I was ready to stand. I don't understand my heart, I think you did more than I ever could. It's always so full of emotion and I don't always know how to handle it. I have all these thoughts and I miss you. I miss my friend. I miss you telling me what to do with these thoughts. I know our infinity drew to a close a long time ago, and I'm okay with that. I just wanted to let you know that your letters are safe.  And that if you're wondering, I think everything's gonna be okay. -Ashes

I wonder if you taste like turpentine and sunshine, you make me feel the way yellow paint looks and I know you understand the feeling because you once tried to capture that feeling. You ate yellow paint despite the toxicity, because you thought it might make you happy. You tried to paint your insides because you were feeling a little blue and that wasn't the primary color you were after. Toxicity never can create happiness, I know, I've tried. Sometimes the things we love the most will kill us, Maybe you were just trying to consume your art before it consumed you. But instead you were haunted by nightmares and suffered a swollen throat for weeks unable to eat. A starving artist. Did you still miss the paint even after it made you sick? No one understood you. They don't understand that art and love rob us of our appetite, hearts, and mind. Yellow is the color of the stars in the darkest night. The night to which you believe is more alive and richly colored

if you're reading this, Read to the bottom of the page... Then stop and never start again. This place is my home, It contains the contents of my heart, And you are no longer deserving of any piece of me. Especially my heart. So do not return. Leave me be.

I think, finally, there isn't a secret left between us. Thank you for telling me the last one. -Ashes