An open letter to mom

i am tired

tired yet true

truly hidden within sight

if you took a look through

i'm bursting at the seams

with uncontrollable pride

but i stay hidden from you

to keep comfort in binds

but not for me, no

for you

but i'm tired and i'm aching and i'm over

it all, it seems as though comfort

means nothing at all

in the face of myself i spew and i spit

can comfort truly mean more than this?

Take a seat now and look

see the colors shine through

the color of comfort is purple in hue

but i'm not purple or blue

i'm a color my own

myself is a color you cannot control

and i'll burst through the comfort

the ease

the passage

to come out with hues

unbeknownst to the masses

i'm more than your comfort

this I know true

and i'll paint the pages

the leaves, the faces

of all i have known

and i know you

i know how you'll feel

the mixing of colors you didn't know were real

at least not to me, no

it couldn't have been

you spent all your time to keep me free

from sin

but your freedom is not mine

it doesn't extend

it retracts and confines with no space

within

your heart i know

is red with love

and though you think that it's tainted

sullied by my glow

i know that together

our colors are stronger

with new meddles and mixes

we'll create a new color

one of our own

and i'll still be your daughter

just with more to show