When I grow up, I want to be a teacher
I played with beige clay and formed the person I wanted to be
The stuffed animals gathered around, handing out ABC's
In kindergarten, I saw the world in popping colors
There were traces of red in the swings, blue in lockers, and yellow in the chalk
Primary colors turned softer when I reached 13
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When I grow up, I want to be a scientist
I played with beakers, smocks, and dirt
I imagined that I concocted some potion of health
Within 10 minutes, I healed the world
The neighborhood was safe again, because I created a cure
Science was turquoise, burnt sienna, and all the colors of crayons
Imaginative colors turned into neutrals when I reached 18
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When I grow up, I want to be a psychologist
Depression manifested in white, gray, and black
I was wrapped in thick clouds of things I tucked away from childhood
In bus stops, I saw brown.
In the therapist's peeling wallpaper, I saw light pink in florals
Anxiety made me see silver, and the medication made me feel older
Basic colors turned into rivers when I reached 23
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When I grow up, I want to heal
In people's eyes, I saw iridescent bubbles
I saw myself in familiar struggles
My ancestors formed me and my community created me
I am unique because of the orange and yellow inside
The trees that sprouted from my hands would never die
All the colors meshed together at this age
I am grateful for being here, and learning from colors on another page
If I am learning, the end of the rainbow will end at me.
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