It is not my fault that your colbalt blue is everywhere.

It is not my fault that your stumbling jokes and flush cheeks are my serenity.

It is not my fault that yours is the only voice I hear in a crowd of a hundred.

It is not my fault that you grace my dreams more than not.

It is not my fault that your smile still fills me with helium.

It is my fault becuase I take the long way just to see you.

It is my fault because I imagine rainy afternoons with you.

It is my fault because I think no one can hold a candle to you.

It is my fault because I wear rose colored glasses.

It is my fault because I wish for you on every fallen eyelash.

It is not my fault that I fell for you. 

But it is my fault

because I have perpetuated my own aching misery.