shy

you're like false hope,
not the best but better than nothing;
no matter how high I am strung
at the end you manage to disappoint
in some small sort of way.
And every time I pick back up-
I do so thinking things will change,
but you're like false hope
just shy of great.

Feeling Grey

I saw the sky shot rainbow,
illuminating the soft winter afternoon
in a million hazes; its spectrum ran
from one horizon to the other. I stared
wide-eyed, bewildered at the arduous sight
that seemed to drench even my own skin.
Elation was how I felt, subdued by its shades:
that orange that excited me or the calming blue--
the sky is a whirlpool.
Time, it soon became due,
and the colors darkened and dulled,
it lapsed above me and deciphered a single hue--
grey, a monochromatic loneliness, it mirrored my mood.
It fused into my pores, and the melanin in my skin--
what that's left stood like blemishes
as if to remind me of better days.
...