This a monochromatic world, a world of strict order.
But she is different, she’s a plethora of color.
Her smile is yellow.
Her laughter is orange.
Her love is pink.
Her beauty is purple.
Her sadness is blue.
There’s never a dull moment being with her.
Seeing these colors makes me feel a soft pink hue.
When she questions her purple, I scold her for doubting it.
When she’s blue, I hold her and tell her the truth.
Her colors are contagious, I’ll tell you, that’s true.
Seeing her downcast eyes, shattered heart makes me blue too.
I want to hold her and show her my pink is true.
However, this is absolutely impossible due to.
She doesn’t love people like me: she only loves dudes.
So here I am, here I stand, her best friend, basked in my own magnificent blue.
She rests her forehead against mine and her orange radiates through.
My orange is dull with a prominent pinkish hue.
A quiet, pulsating blue in my heart ’cause of dreams that won’t come true’.
Watching her heart be broken, battered, and used.
By people who don’t deserve her like I do.
Let me tell you, I love her, and love her, I do!
And I know she’ll never love me, not the way I do…
But being her best friend and supporting her through and through,
Resisting the urge to do something with her only soulmates do,
That’s the best that I can do.
I hold her through her blue times and we both make it through.
When the new guy comes along, her oranges, her pinks
And I look at her purple and suddenly think,
I should thank her for her colors because now–even though they’re dull and small–I have color too.
It sucks we can’t be the picture perfect couple you dream of
(Cause I know I can make that happen but whatever).
But I’ll always be by your side through my secretive pinks and woeful blues.