purple is the neon lights and fishnet jeans and dancing with you under the disco ball when we both know that you’re trying to escape the yelling at home. purple is warm hugs on a cold night outside the local supermarket. purple is watching the clock ticking, counting each agonizing second until you come home safe to me. purple is the 2:30 giggles on the phone and our shared dreams and future and breaking down about how you wished your family loved you. purple is kisses under a cherry blossom and stargazing and hickeys on my collarbone. purple is all the sunsets and heartbreak but it’s also taking naps together and waking up with a smile. purple is the missed heart beat every time you laugh and counting the days down and the winter flowers that grow in your balcony. purple is the spray paint graffiti and the comfort of your hands playing with my hair and our bucket list goals.
purple makes me feel ethereal only with you so please don’t leave.
—what i wish i had told you before you left