Color me impressed by the way that I walk. By the way that I talk. By the way my golden locs gently kiss my brown skin.
Color me intrigued by the sway of my hips, the pink of my lips. By the pain in my eyes and the hushed sounds of my cries.
Color me stressed. Although I’m “too blessed to be stress” is the cliché throw I their way. To throw them off the scent of my depression.
Color me deceived by the friendships I thought were true. By the relationships I thought would bloom like the flowers in spring.
Color me refreshed by this newfound freedom. The freedom to express with limitation because that is what our generation needs to succeed.
Color me pleased by the sacrifices paid with blood, sweat and tears just so I could stand here to tell my story.
Color me thankful for all the painful experiences that have made me…me…and not what the world tells me I can be.
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