My Red Self

I’m red

And I’ve been red

this whole time

I don’t think God made me red

and then threw me from the clouds only for me to beg

to be painted again

And I don’t want to hear you say I can live a “red-free life”

So shut up

I’m really tired of putting on makeup when I go to work

Getting up at 6:00 to paint myself blue

I’m also, like, convincing myself I’m actually blue to make it through the day?

Is there a psychological term for that?

Today I wondered why I had an odd, purplish hue all day

and when I got home I remembered:

Oh! I’m red

I’ve heard my coworkers use red slurs

And when the hate’s not direct, it’s inferred; like

One time I overheard

Regina ask Jim what he would do

If he was ever in a situation

Where he had to work with someone

Who was red.

I didn’t hear what he said

I had heard enough information.

I like to sprinkle little red tokens around my room

I have a badge on my jacket that says “reds against colorists”

Well, sometimes I do,

Other times I put it on, only to take it off in my car

and hide it deep in my glove compartment.

Like I’m playing some sort of game where one day

the wrong person will see it and I’ll be found out

A few months ago my grandfather visited

and was so proud that I had already bought my second car at nineteen. He said he was very proud of the woman I’d become;

Proud of the woman he thought I was

He stayed in my room,

So before he came I found everything in my room with a pinkish hue,

boxed it up, and put it in the closet

At dinner when we were discussing if “reds” had the right to exist

I was paralyzed

because I could've sworn his eyes

were square on me

the whole time.

I couldn’t remember what I had worn the day before

I threw my red badge of courage in the dumpster

and smashed my pink vase on the floor.

Wearing makeup becomes a habit

Sometimes I sleep it in and stain my sheets

Sometimes I roll out of bed and go to school

in my makeup from the day before

like I want to be read as blue,

but a patch on my leg might reveal my true hue

I’m red,

and I would love to be a proud, red woman

Sometimes I am

Sometimes I wear a white dress

when taking out the trash,

I roll down the driveway

and walk back up the hill,

a pale blue dot smeared on my dress,

my neighbors not suspecting a thing

One day I’ll wear a white dress

and not have to worry about a stain

One day I’ll appear

A red lady on that hill,

my secret revealed.