A love letter for Vincent Van Gogh

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 than the day.

I used to point out constellations in the sky and think I was the first to find them,
I know people say there's nothing new under the sun but I like to think the stars tell a different story.

You know a lot about stars,
You know a lot about colors,
You once said that there is no blue without yellow and without orange.
And I don't really understand what you meant,
But maybe you would know why the stars make me feel so blue?

Or maybe you could tell me how to paint the stars into my own sky because I lost them in the eyes of everyone I've ever loved.

And while you're at it you could teach me the art of flowers.
Yellow sunflowers.
I'll practice opening up and turning towards the warm and bright things in life.

I like to pull the petals off of flowers and watch them fall to the ground,

He loves me not
He loves me not
He loves me not.

He loved me not.

What a waste of beauty for a boy who doesn't care.
But broken hearts mend and make for better art.

So thank you to all the boys who've broken my heart,
Without you I wouldn't have learned how to paint my own stars in the sky,
Or know the ways of yellow sunflowers in the summer.

I'm no longer eating yellow paint,
I'm using it on every canvas I can find.

Vincent Van Gogh, I love you.
My yellow compliments your blue.

Without you there would be no yellow paint.