Self Portrait

I was red in my head, starving heart on fire-- why are all of you stealing my colors?

A cavern was left; my wide-open chest impressed with the weight of concealing my colors.

Who am I, how? Found flow in orange hips glowing, moving slow with everything they’d known,

swinging through the night with laughter and lips. I saw you there, revealing my colors:

shades of yellow. Where was my spark? When did it go? Why didn’t I know?

Sometimes a soul comes to life in the sun-- your name, a ray; appealing my colors.

Unseen green blooming, nature’s necessity: the plant must sprout and split the hull.

I have always been afraid of the dark. How will I grow without you healing my colors?

They say blue is true, and it is-- it was you and it was me, it was someone new, a three,

an ‘us’ telling me to mighty, mean, and in between start fully feeling my colors.

Breathe in, breathe out; I’m in, no doubt. There’s so much about life that can give us the grey--

but I’m wild, pen tough. Veins of violet, hope enough, watching fate carefully sealing my colors.

What beyond is the white? Will death invite me in? Knowing we don’t know is where to begin.

I used to think I’d be able to fly, but even if I spin in the sky, I’ll be free-- wheeling my colors.