inspired by color,

inspired by color,

I told myself not to write about transness this time.

accumulating manufactured worlds, names given without permission,

consent revoked before color is admitted.

a firm-pressed crime, with scents of distant yellow, my confessional security is conditional.

what shade of green do you see? Is it mine? Some sort of silent agreement gives access to a world I never wanted to belong to.

let me express into shades of black and blue, your eyes refusing to see anything but buckets of vomit

clinging to collateral, desperate gulps of faithless air, a blank, white scream, a repulsion.

Windbroken slanted colors I call mine and no one corrects. or maybe no one sees my pointed possession.

either way, my fear is not so different from your anger.

how are my eyes different from yours? my words? my body? my root?

in boundless ways, we are opposite,

yet completely, finitely, innately intertwined,

I am you and you are I

are any of us all that different?

I guess we’ll never really know