Getting Somewhere

We spend the entire hello
saying goodbye
in preparation for
painting quaint rainbows
shades of grey.
I miss our Technicolor fantasies.
We've replaced it all with
black lines and white
nothings.
Sweet dreams are sworn off sour
and we watch the candle wax evening
melt through our finger tips,
leaving little burns of memory
for us
to suck the pain from.
I remember every film we've seen
and the monsters you have
saved me
from, but it's never quite enough.
The daises always die
and the cherries drop too soon.
Do you remember our photocopy reality?
It's nothing real, anyway.
Not to you
and not to me.
We waste our whole hello
saying see you later.