Crayola

Crayola is my best friend.

I use Dora the Explorer and Tinkerbell

Coloring books to make my world as pretty as a rainbow. Shading bright pinks instead of red

Because it reminds me of hair-bows

And “guey-guey” gumdrops.

Candy colorful treats sweeter than

My virgin’s innocence.

Cane pure as sugar never tastes so sweet.

But everything with a good taste can go rotten. And when her body bit the fruits of her labor These desecrators that belonged to her mom That Crayola now calls “Candy Tasters” Felt that she was ripe enough.

So now she colors red hues outside the Lines of her reflections rainbow. Because her pot of gold was stolen, And she can no longer color her own Rainbow of happiness.

So Dora leads the way...

As markers bleeds more than Boots’ red shoes, Treading her blissful ecstasy of her

Explored vaginally vast sugary treats.

The depth of her coloring bleeds onto

Her pure white sheets, and is so

Stained that Clorox and Tide gave up on their purpose.

And when she tells her mom

That crayons from her box are being stolen. Mommy paints black, purple and blue images On her face, as if she never

Wants her to forget those colors.

And the shower of her tears

Can’t even erase the canvas painting,

As if it’s intertwined with her markers Bleeding red sugary treats.

So Tinkerbell’s dust can only

Make her fly away, when her

Twin size bed creeks of agony,

As her headboard cries

To the walls that keep these stale secrets.

But with all these cries

No one is listening to Crayola’s darkness. As if pink can’t turn into red’s rage and 911 is just an extra dollar onto your phone bill; When the ghetto has seen more

Red on the streets than on sheets.

Crayola can only blind her eyes

So much when she realizes

That she’s been coloring with poverty’s crayons. And all this time she’s been using

A box of 4 instead of 24.

And instead of the box saying Crayola

It says Krayons with a K.

These colors can only shade so much Until they break!

And since no one can hear...

Crayola will only be the one

I share my secrets with.

So “Candy Tasters”...

Will you stop taking a bite of my sweetness? Because your actions aren’t justified even though... No matter how hard you bite sadly

Poverty will always silence my cries and

Crayola will be just another continuous cycle.

-Aydee Bailey