It’s the color of my heart when it explodes. And not in the kind way. It explodes after years of your goals and ambitions leeching onto the back of my mind. I never expected to drown so young with chains around my voice.
It’s the same color of the hearts people draw next to their new favorite name. The way they speak and break out into a smile. It’s the color of another heart warmed and told that they are loved for the first time. The tiny hands that don’t quite reach out longer than your finger.
While that same color reminds me of my crumbling tombstone. It swirls in my veins, whispering about the hands on my heart, the hands on my shoulders, the hands around my neck—
It’s still my favorite color. The color of my next video game, the one where I save the world from a man who can’t take no for an answer. It’s the color that comes out of my CDs’ roller coaster waves. It’s the color that I can’t quite seem to get off my brain.
Because even through the pain, the color made me who I am today.
Copyright © Robin LeeAnn
True Color’s Leeann
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Thank you!
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Beautiful work, robin; I loved everything about this. My 2 faves: the voice chains and the crumbling tombstone. salute!
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Thank you so much!!!
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Personally, your poem conjures up all colors of 1,000 Crayola crayons…the colors of the physical and personal world in which we reside. Wonderful imagery!
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Thank you so much!
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