roy g. biv

box of crayons

oh little box of assorted crayons

little pieces of wax wrapped in paper, labeled with names that made her laugh

the laugh that was to be heard no more,

when she realized they wouldn't erase

oh little box of assorted crayons

remember when you were  her prized possession?

i remember that too

the days of imagination

the days of innocence

the days of no expectation

yeah, those were the days

hey little box of crayons

do you remember when you got replaced?

the day mr. pencil decided to show up,

he wasn't as pretty,

but he could erase

sorry

they don't let you use crayons on the ACT

or on your calculus final

or in the real world

because little box of crayons

people grow up

and things move on

and school sucks the creativity right out of you

and places it up on the very top shelf

right next to that jar labeled "be yourself"

oh little box of crayons,

naive little box of crayons

society could care less about how you feel

and that paper you have to write

didn't make room for color

black and white 

black and white

black and white

clean cut is the new black, and you better believe that tough guys don't wear pink

not even on a wednesday

but don't worry 

because little box of crayons

you are about to be opened once again

and this time,

you won't be left behind.

you thought you did

I left you a note in the glove box of your car.

A simple note, a simple goodbye, in simple memory of who I am.

Just because you didn't know me.

My heart stung as I wrote those scribbled words. I don't know why. But it did.

You didn't know me.

Yet I was still scared that your no good, smell -like -summer, kiss- me- in- the -backseat type of car would pull out of my peripheral vision, only to never be seen again. 

Why the hell did I care?

You didn't even know me.

The memories. Oh the memories. 

They were a crystal ball in the concrete space we call time, 

replaying

rewinding

pausing 

That is when I realized

You didn't know me.

I saw a glimpse of what it should've been,

What it was, and what it wasn't.

When you told me you loved me,

You didn't know me.

But when I told you I loved you,

I didn't know you either.

Things he didn't know about me, that I know about me:

1. Younger than the age of accountability, I promised myself a swear word would never leave my innocent lips. (that didn't last long)

2.  The sound of water draining from a clouded sky, makes me feel comfortable.

But only if I'm in my own place of refuge.

3. I hated lacing up my little pink shoes each week to dance to a rhythm I had no control over.

Further instruction told me not to quit. (but i did) 

4.  Red and Blue work against me when I can feel my lips no more. You would think I was wearing a deep shade of purple lipstick when I am cold,

but that is only if you didn't know me.

5. Love to me is like an ocean, it pulls you in, leaves you breathless, then it kills you.

And that troubles me.

6. I always believed in the statement "more than words can say" but I am starting to realize that those words themselves are puzzle pieces that refuse to fit.

7. If you asked me what the definition of winning was, I would absentmindedly mumble "cologne. painfully good cologne".

8. I didn't want to end on eight because that feels awkward to me (ocd)  but I am clearly running out of things to say.

9.  Maybe its because I've always hated small talk, and shaky hands,
and loud voices,

because if I want to get to know you, it won't come effortless.

10. I wish I could get to know you.

Hello, my name is Lola J.

Get to know me.