You don’t deserve
Any of the words
I give you.
Why do I fill my pages
With words for you
When all yours for me
Were empty?
And more importantly
Why do I keep writing them?
Why do I constantly
Hopelessly
Waste my words
On the people
Whose colours turned to grey?
Who turned my colours to grey?
Why should I paint them
And pretend
They still have colours?
Maybe I’m just hoping
That for someone
Someday,
My colours will paint them
So bright
That they will never
Be able to wash them off
And maybe then
They will hopelessly
Waste their words
On me.
Lauren Kathleen 