Phase Shift

When she was born she was

yellow,

a color that didn't last long

because the world understood

it didn't fit her disposition.

As she grew older she turned

copper,

warm and metallic,

but it was color

that was too easy to tarnish,

Her innocence flashing brightly

against the penny-like hue.

But as she became familiar

with the darkness of life

she slowly turned

black,

enveloped in the ash

of the world that burned around her.

Then from the embers she burst

in vibrant shades of

red,

The brightest scarlet

a bold warning to stay away,

The deepest garnet

a blazing emblem of her tenacity,

The color of blood

a fearless display of her ferocity,

Until it became

a coagulated scab of the past,

a wound that just wouldn’t heal.

She searched for serenity

and found herself become

purple,

as her wounds began to heal

and turn to bruise.

She felt comfort

in the amaranthine abyss,

her next color a mystery.

For the first time

she felt peace

and put trust in the process

that one day she would be

a dazzling shade of

white,

a sign that she had

survived the chaos of the colors

and made it through life

with a rainbow of stories to tell.