how incredibly annoying is it that words cannot capture everything?

i will sit here and i will ramble on for hours to you about how the ocean caught the red blazing sun in a perfect reflection.

you will nod your head and smile, but you did not see what i had seen.

i then will tell you that the flowers are in bloom again, and they’re even prettier this year than they were last.

you will nod your head and smile, but you had not been to the place i spoke of.

then i will say that your bright pink lips are perfectly painted, and i will advise you not to stay out for too long.

you will nod your head and smile, but you have yet to come back to me.

no, words cannot capture everything.

they can only hold so much emotion before they’re just dots and crosses on otherwise empty paper.

but colours are a different story.

this is why whenever i think of you, my world turns a faded shade of fuchsia and i begin to wonder where my purpose has gone.

this is why the only paints i ever buy are red, white, and a little bit of blue.

this is why i take pictures of seaside sunsets and pin them up on our bedroom wall.

this is why i sleep on your side of the bed now, hoping to fill the empty space with the weighted presence of my guilty conscience.

but i can only hope to be a ghost of the light you left behind, a mere particle of the energy you radiated.

my favourite colour was fuchsia.

now it is dark green.

and until you come back to me, i will be lying in the forest behind our house, looking up at the trees and waiting.