You-Sual

Usually, I'm good at masking what I feel usually, I don't say my favourite colour is teal. Usually, the brown of your eyes wasn't as pretty as the coffee when brewed usually, I never saw you as my muse. But nothing is usual anymore, Is it just me, or did you change your cologne? Perhaps, it was me who didn't notice the mundane things. Perhaps, it wasn't all usual, now that you're the one who bring spring. I finally let down my guard, so void of the dark pigment it became, my mask. But with the spring, bloomed the flowers no one knew I was allergic, and so I cowered. This was all so childish I am, now, aware. Would it be different, if you had cared?