You're dripping like a saturated sunrise You're spilling like an overflowing sink

"Suna, just tell me what's wrong." you held his hand, but he merely pulled away — a small frown on his lips; a nervous look in his eye. He had always avoided confronting his emotions.

You're ripped at every edge but you're a masterpiece; and now you're tearing through the pages and the ink

Even then, he was still yours. Ultimately, affectionately yours. It was undeniable with the way he holds you so tenderly. How the little moments feel a lot bigger due to his reserved nature.

Everything is blue: His pills, his hands, his jeans; and now I'm covered in the colors pulled apart at the seams — and it's blue

"Your head hurts?" you asked, holding the dark blue panadol bottle in your hand. You reached forward as Suna slumps onto your shoulder. He lets himself be cared for this one time.

Everything is grey: His hair, his smoke, his dreams; and now he's so devoid of color — he don't know what it means, and he's blue

Being a pro player was already hard enough. He was in a rut, burnt out. He wanted nothing more than to drink at night and take painkillers in the morning. It nerved you — making Suna frustrated at how you keep trying to reach out whenever he pushes you away.

You were a vision in the morning When the light came through

There were times when the mornings come in like a soft ray of the sun. The cool blow from the window and warm skin on yours. His arms around your smaller frame, lips ghosting your shoulders.

"I know I've only felt religion when I've lied with you." he whispered.

You said you'll never be forgiven 'til your boys are too

But his newer friends were another problem. They were all enablers, not thinking about Suna's safety. They were bad company — not caring even if he had a girlfriend, pushing him to other women.

And I'm still waking every morning but it's not with you

You find yourself in bed with another man. What was his name again? Kuroo. You think. Does it matter? You miss Suna.