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Color had always surrounded me as a child.
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The most vibrant hues of pink and blue which most people would find repulsive welcomed my soul in a dome I began to call home. I shared it with the people around me and I remember them finding joy in my colors, so much so they (the colors) would become even more energetic. But then as quickly as the life around me had settled, it took a twist.
We decided to change the backdrop of our little theater ending up somewhere with walls as high as my little neck could bend and fields that would leave my tiny body heaving by the time I got to my classroom. With this new set came new characters, so like always I sat amongst the hoard of them and spread my colors letting them bath in them.
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So bare with me when I say I couldn't grasp what they meant when they came to me and said they didn't want to play.
Bare with me when they came to me only with the words "Stay away."
Sitting at the back didn't feel as lonely with the vigor that squirmed out of my hands and I would chat with anyone who kept my company.
I wanted them to light up under the tincture I had within me. Up until they would leave and I would wait for the next person. Up until there was no one left.
It was then when it hit me, as I sat in a ground full of running children alone- that I realized they didn't want me. They didn't want my color.
And as quickly as that the tints dimmed and blemished. The voice that was so eager to talk became quieter and the girl that was so desperate to run grew stagnant.
The World around me began fluctuating as I saw the shades turn from summer to autumn.
I shifted with them, somewhere in there I dared to wish there would be someone there, someone waiting. Someone willing to see me.
So cut my hair and wore boyish clothes with the intention to stick out like a sour thumb. Sooner or later someone would notice. Some one would look at me.
I watched- like a fish out of water, how suffocating it became to watch my vibrancy fade into cold tones of white, black and grey.
The World around me rejected me and my color. I watched as the people around me strived on this monotoned world.
Cracks and holes in my structure became far to wide to avoid. Far to repetitive.
The World around me sucked the canon of fire by producing ice.
So I forgot one simple thing in my salvo against it.
The world around Me.
The world around Me.
The world around Me.
I was the nucleus. The world did not reject my color, it became afraid of its aw that it turned away from it. It shunned it for its beauty and shunned it for its loudness.
Yet it kept breaking through with its crack and holes and dents. It broke out like weeds on a sidewalk. It took its time to remind me the world is not powerful enough to curb this fireball that soo troublesomely existed within my conscience.
I had let the pests invade my world and steal my color but they always healed to be as they were.
This time around maybe I will let them, I'll watch them as they finally over come their winter hues and take on the forms of spring in Pastels.....
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