Fine when its your walls.
Fine when it’s the sky,
Bidding the sun goodbye.
You grew a rather strong liking to colours.
Or rather change of them.
You had a red shade.
You donned it in bed when you dominated my desires.
For all the times, darker my bruises grew.
You had a green shade.
You donned it often, seeing me one up you on your defeats.
Your grey shade.
Monotonous, distant, cruel, sulking.
I’d have rather preferred a street cat on those days.
The pink put me off.
Because friendship, was never something you could ever pull off.
Orange was a dangerous drape.
Sun’s inferiority complex, your burning flames.
Clock struck dark, you wore black.
Dear Antichrist, you can have him back.
I am done with your rainbow.
No, it’s not pleasant.
I could actually feed you the goats of peasants.
I’d stick to my yellow.
Squish the lemons in your eyes.
Satan, would you take this sacrifice?