there was five days until winter and i could see spring rains, frozen beneath your eyelids. underneath your irises and waiting to escapse, they were there.
they were the pretty kind of rain, that would make flowers grow and throw rainbows across a grey sky.
i counted down the days until spring came in big black numbers on the back of my hand.
your parents always thought something was wrong with you, when you were just a child.
your teachers would try and get you to learn the colours of the rainbow, and they'd shower you in pictures of yellow raincoats and green cars
when your teacher would ask you what colour they were, you'd always reply with
'starlight' or 'envy'
there wasn't anything wrong with you though,
you couldn't help but see in shades of sunsets and car crashes.
there was three days until spring and i spent my time wishing your eyes were green or blue or maybe even both, like that boy i remember from primary school.
i wished that spring rain would come and make forget-me-nots grow in your pupils; then you would have eyes the shade of drowning.
i never grew to appreciate your grey eyes. you always told me that they were the colour of concrete and cigarette ash.
there was one day until spring and you did not wake up
cigarette smoke had never tasted so good, and concrete walls had never been so pretty. i bought cans of paint and spent my spring graffiting pretty flowers and hearts and love-poems onto blank concrete walls, because i thought then you'd understand i still love you.
maybe you'd understand all you needed was a bit of colour.
spring rains came and threw rainbows across the sky, but they bled shades of crimson-cresented blades, and paper-moons. of morning twilight and sailing away.
of sandy shores and early morning frost.
but without you there, blue was just blue.
and green was
i never really finished my countdown to spring.
i still have permanant texta embedded in the lines of my hands, in the shape of a 1
it has faded, but i still like to think it is the colour of your night.
spring just wasn't the same without you, my lace-winged angel.