Misty-eyed.

The blue drips out of my eyes with every blink;
Drops of soul on the sheets.
Sounds like slow, torturous rain;
the kind that makes you frustrated and your clothes only slightly wet with
large
drops.
My lungs attempt to force their way out through my throat and mouth;
The pressure makes me cough and makes my head spin.
My head feels heavy and less vibrant,
and I feel myself missing your colorful love.
Shocking myself, I lash out and make the situation worse.
You always carried the scent of love;
slight, hardly noticeable and intoxicating.