Room Temperature at Best

This is a spoken word that I wrote a couple of days ago, any feedback appreciated.

Room temperature at best

When I first saw you, everything went red

Red: like roses and lipstick and blood

Now when I see you, the world just stays grey

Grey: like tax forms and dishwashers and my Dad’s hair.

You used to be the cynosure of my attention, a red-hot fire in the dark room that is my life

Now, you’re like a pesky chore floating round the back of my head, like an email I’ve been putting off replying too

Girl, we used to make the windows sweat, now we’re just room temperature at best

This used to feel like a tequila shot spreading through my chest now it’s like some nasty glass of wine that I feel obliged to drink at family Christmas, it’s like struggling my way through high school with some old man telling me I’ll miss this?

I used to like the way we thought in parallel but now I just despise it because I realised that parallel lines never meet.

I remember when you asked me to write a poem about you and I said, “I dunno how to write poems about things that make me happy” and at the time I was just being sappy but it’s true

Yet here I am writing a poem about you, about this luke warm quotation marks love

about a dark room with a fire that went out months ago because I forgot to put logs on it

about all the dirty dishes piling up next to my sink!...

it makes ya think.

Baby, when I first saw you everything around me went red but I stayed blue

Blue: like Microsoft word and ball point pens and depression.

Like, to-do lists and surgical grade hand soaps and water.

Water.

When I first saw you, you set everything around me on fire, but fire and water don’t mix so well

And then,

I made everything grey.

•      b.r.
  

1 https://oc.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/876nhv/maybe/dwas2pk/

2 https://oc.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/86vceo/_/dwasbsb/