Ask, Listen, Repeat

I say my favorite color is blue when you ask me. But, if you had really listened, I’d pause and think, and I’d say it’s a deep burgundy red.

The color of crisp wine or the ripest apples in a pile of orange autumn leaves. It’s the nail liqueur that I let dry while watching a video of teacup puppies catching their tails. The color of my crushed velvet top hugging me the perfect way as I take a bite out of red velvet cake. It’s the color of the rose I received for my twelfth birthday left to die in my diary. Something so primary, essential like the blood in my veins feeding my heart.

I do love blue. Navy to be exact. It’s that smell of the shore or the cool sheets I lay on in the summertime and read a mystery by the roaring fan.

But my burgundy red is a secret I don’t share. Get to know me first, if you dare. It’s the mystery that’s hard to solve and the puzzle piece that you once lost.

I’m still finding my Navy Blue, but my Burgundy Red was always there.

A letter to Blue:

I wrote this poem a while ago but left it in the deep dark abyss that is my notebook. It’s interesting to go back and read about the feelings you felt at a specific moment in time. At the moment those feelings are earth-shattering, but looking back all it was, was just a moment. That’s all it ever is.

Have you ever talked to someone and all they do is take? They take your time, your patience, your kindness for granted, and all you get in return is a feeling of exhaustion. I ask you questions; how are you, who are you, are you? Good. Me. Yes. That’s all I get back. But, it’s a two-way street so why settle for any less?

You say you like to be mysterious but in reality, it’s a way to escape reality. Was it too personal? Got it. I won’t ask what your favorite city is again. You ignoring someone's likes and dislikes isn’t what builds that intrinsic spark. Asking them questions, listening to their thoughts, ideas, and feelings do. You desire natural chemistry, but all you’re going to get is a bad formula.

But, please — don’t let me get in the way of your indisposed ego.