Do you ever look to the sky and wonder when your colors will appear?
When the red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo, and violet colors will dance across the sky, like a ballerina on a stage, the crowd not fully getting the meaning of her movements?
Or do you look to the ground as grey envelopes your world, flooding everything around it?
Perhaps you try to come out, but they turn you down cold, freezing your heart and cracking it.
Maybe you're tired of people hating you for being you.
Not having a definite gender.
Loving one of your own gender.
They are considered wrong in the eyes of most.
Cruel acts of hate are pushed onto you, suffocating the last bit of hope you had left.
Do you think it's fun when the sharp silver glides along your wrist, letting the red liquid fall to the surface?
Know that you are not alone.
The rainbow always comes after a storm to brighten up the grey, bringing color once again to your plain world.
The colors feel your pain.
They hold you closer to them, trying to get you to feel their warmth, begging you to not give up hope.
You must only do one thing to make the colors happy.
You must run to the rainbow.
