What colour is the wind?

To me the colours of the wind are like a kind of mood ring, you know those rings you had as a child- you put it on and it changed colour according to your mood. So each colour would mean a different mood, this is what the wind colours are to me.

What colour is the wind you ask me, it is:

A White breeze for when the mist is setting in, this is when I am feeling peaceful.

A Blue breeze on a beautiful day at the beach, this is when I am feeling happy.

An Orange breeze during the sunset, this is when I am feeling thankful for all my blessings.

A Grey breeze when it rains, this is when I am feeling miserable.

A Yellow breeze when I’m up and about, this is when I’m feeling excited.

That’s me and my breezes:)  What about you what colour is your breeze today…?

A Grey breeze is my colour today.

Say This!

I'm here. I love you. I don't care if you need to stay up crying all night long. I will stay with you. If you need the medication again , go ahead and take it--- I will love you through that, as well. If you don't need the medication , I will love you, too. There's nothing you can ever do to lose my love. I will protect you until you die, and after your death I will still protect you. I am stronger than Depression and I am braver than Loneliness and nothing will ever exhaust me.

Elliptical

     I don't know what happened and I don't think I'll ever understand how we lived in each other's palms and how you're fingerprints became suns and moons or how you left something like planets on my skin. You turned into silver and gold threads , longer than our veins and laced right through my skull, swelling up with every single thought I ever had. And we always had these state lines cradled in our shaking hands but it never stopped our fingers from intertwining or our spines from melting into mountains. Sometimes it would feel like the stars coughed us up and our eyes were always tinted blue from looking up. So I'll never understand how you let me lay on the floorboards in your chest and sleep inside your ribcage when you were always going to leave. I have your words and promises, still soft with cracked edges like seashells in my back pockets because I promised I wouldn't let them get swallowed by the shore but it doesn't really matter. 
WE DON'T EXIST ANYMORE.