you’ll never see in colour

You only ever have thoughts in grey.
Your eyes are incapable of telling black from white and you never see things as they are.
You are the hopeless romantic sipping beer out of red cups at parties, where you learn to forget your own name until you taste it on someone else’s drunk lips.
You never manage to love someone back; your heart only knows of loving too much or not at all.
You spend your days hanging on the “what if’s” and “if only’s” that gnaw at the soft fabric of your brain.
Well clever boy, if only you knew how your lips taste like the phrases of poetry you’ve dedicated to all the wrong people that you’ve erased from your memory.
And what if someone’s fallen in love with the way you try to hide behind the tufts of your hair hanging too close to your eyes, trying to avoid any eye contact?
You pretend you know what happiness feels like, but the only time you feel anything other than emptiness is when you’re falling asleep in the arms of someone who’s hands you’ve begged to caress your skin, like tracing maps carved into your back.
These maps lead to all the places you would rather be.
You claim to hate the city you live in, but how can you explain that you’ve only ever felt at home in her embrace?
You can’t manage to find the right words to describe the beauty of creating a safe haven within someone else, so you spend your nights trying to embed your thoughts into words, but you’ll never truly capture the essence of being in love.

You only ever have thoughts in grey.

– excerpt from a book I’ll never write
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