drown out words.
you’ve always been a firework. a glaring indigo.
once upon a time, for you, I would give the world, just so that spark would never go out.
but you’ve become too infatuated with your own light. so much that you can’t see anything else around you. small actions, big actions, the words and hearts around you, you can’t see any of it. only the moths drawn to the explosion, wings seared from coming a little too close, matter.
you’ve always seen me as a sparkler.
no matter how much I raise my voice, shoot sparks or bullets,
all of it will be drowned out in that
it’s a lonely color.
in this place we call home, you set fireworks off at my feet.