Twisted ribbons

Grey like a heavy cloud

Pink like soft flesh

Red like an open wound

My father, my grandmother, my friend

And what about this girl?

Colours of distinction, colours of suffering, colours of hope and of loss and of connection and of despair

A ribbon carefully twisted

And pinned to a shirt

A symbol of imperfection

Of humanity

Of illness and hopefully survival

A young girl

Rainbow ribbons in her hair

Freedom and hope

Will she wear other colours

In solidarity or sorrow

Or for herself

Will the rainbow ribbons of her childhood

Come back to haunt her

In a small and twisted ribbon

An age of innocence

Lost to one simple colour

Of a body so impermanent

A war to fight within

Grey? Orange? Pink? Red?

Will she wear a colour too?

Orange my girl!

Your colour is orange

Orange like a setting sun

Wear it well

Stand tall

Hold onto the rails if you need to

But wear your colour with pride

For you are beautiful

Even if it’s not your colour

You wear it well