Rosebud

‘I don’t like Magenta.

It’s too intrusive, too bright!’

Lacking one wave length yet

Still observed through site.

It made me feel annoyed.

Like a kick of perfume.

‘But I’m much like Magenta.

I take up so much room…’

I’m PassionatE!

I’m INTENSE!

I’m DiFfErEnT

And I’m s t r a n g e.

But I’m learning to love myself,

And accept what I can’t change.

I used to feel shadow Black.

Like I was sufficating-

In ink

Like a dark, writhing eal,

Was willing me down.

Forcing me to

s

i

n

k...

As a child I was plagued

By feelings of inadequesy.

With every new step

My failures were all I could see.

With every error, every challenge,

I struggled

And I cried.

I felt defective for years and wondered,

‘Why was I alive?’

Red were my feelings.

Like fire.

Like blood.

I knew others loved me,

But where was my love?

.

.

.

Now I’m 21

And for the first time…

I’m green.

Like a tree branching out,

I feel clear, content, and clean.

I no longer abhor this wild, silly, girl…

Because Magenta may be flawed,

It may be Zany, Weird, and Free,

But if I didn’t have Magenta,

I wouldn’t have this Green.

And if I didn’t have Magenta,

I wouldn’t have this me.