i sit on top of a hill
that faces a meadow
covered with puke-toned daffodils
with an obnoxiously vivacious Aurora Borealis
hovering over the beautifully wretched petals.
i ponder,
little grey me,
if i am anything more than this shade.
this shade is what i’ve been associated with my entire life.
i am not as blue as the seven seas,
i am not as yellow as the sun that shines above us,
nor am i as red as the blood that flows in our veins,
i am just as grey as cigarette smoke.
since i am this color,
i know i do not serve any purpose.
i am nothing.
nothing special.
nothing worthwhile.
nothing tangible.
nothing at all.
i am nothing but a disappointment.
i gasp, re-entering the reality of where i sit.
i notice a cloud forming over my grey form,
thundering, crackling, scaring me enough to snap out
of my self-detrimental thoughts.
i look past the cloud,
back at the horribly luminous Aurora Borealis.
i squint and decide to trace my fingers
along the lines of its gloriously blinding figure.
it feels like i am painting, coloring its body so smoothly,
to the point where i have fallen into a trance.
i smile lazily, inhale deeply,
and decide to take a plunge into the grotesque meadow.
i engulf myself in the putrid smell,
in the golden color,
and feel the soft shape of the meadow.
i accept it slowly,
and i do the same with myself.
because despite of what others think of me,
what my Love thinks of me,
what i think of me,
i am everything but grey.
all i am is a bit
dusty,
rusty,
hidden
from my true potential.
i have been suppressed into this one shade,
oppressed in order not to feel any other.
i swim across these petals,
the daffodils’ buds kissing both cheeks
and wiping off my glistening tears
caused by my astounding epiphany.
the grey that you see
is what hides my true shade.
my true shade is
gleaming,
lusty,
imperious,
tenacious even.
however, if i am stuck with this wrongfully assigned shade,
forever enslaved to this monochrome hue,
who is to say
that i can’t bend the rules
to glow underneath
and even through this coat of wrath.
at the end of my voyage through this fair and accepting meadow,
i transform.
i transcend through my past
and expected self:
letting go of insecurities,
expectations,
and the normalities
of the cruel world i have succumbed to.
i don’t deserve to be constrained,
i don’t allow myself to be further abstained,
and i shouldn’t be restrained
to this idle shade.
if i can’t be blue,
yellow, or red,
at least i can shine.
i will break out of this shallow shell of grey
in order to be more than what i am supposed to be.
i will foreverglow
and you can’t stop me.
Royal Rose 