This husk is calm
Unmemorable and blank
But what lies within, is a mass of untamed vibrance and life
It begs to be seen
To be known
To be felt
Often blooming from atop my scalp
The color perceived as a warning or invite
The fiery red of anger and malice
The buttoned-down business of an earthy brown
The whimsical soft pink of a playful minx
The bombshell blonde of a glowing ball of hope
These colors cannot be whitewashed
They have seeped from my soul and cried out from within in protest and song
A battle cry of freedom from a voice drowned by society and pain
The world would wish me mute
A beige wall to be blended away
But each fresh breath breeds a new bloom that must be expressed
About the Creator
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The Devil's Triangle
The sails ruffled in the breeze as we cruised along. The Sea Breeze was a mid-size catamaran that sailed out of Royal Naval Dockyard in Bermuda. We had booked this trip weeks in advance and were now looking at our Captain, Spike and two boat hands. Paddy and Wilson seemed like nice guys, joking around with the passengers and telling us some stories about Bermuda that only locals would know. Their island accents sounded almost British but they were pleasant to listen to.
By Barbara Gode Wiles2 days ago in Fiction
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