I breathe, think, need
in black
and white:
love and apathy,
obsession and exile,
depression and joy –
but you
are gray space.
I want to write you a letter
all about me,
I want to write you a letter
telling you I’m done;
I want to write a letter
that says everything.
But how could I put
our everything into words?
What colors could I use
to describe the grayness
of in-between?
If I could transcribe my brain,
it would explain that
you never leave,
that a new word for you appears
every second,
but those words don’t form a sentence.
I want to define you,
to paint you inside of my lines,
but I am unable
when you, like a hurricane,
slip so casually in
and out of my life.