Pink was my color.
You said everyone had a color.
I knew mine was different from the others.
First it was the makeup on my eyelids,
It made my eyes stand out.
This was nice because you meant it.
Next,
I wore it when I went to your house,
A low cut tank-top I hoped you'd ask about.
We laid on your bed and I took your hand as usual
But for some reason I felt like you didn't wanna hold it.
My worries were silenced with a reassuring grip,
But somehow I knew.
I woke up fifteen minutes early every morning,
So I would look the way you liked.
I cut my bangs so my hair would finally look nice while plaited.
I surrounded myself in bright colors.
Orange, blue, red, and final pink.
I paid fucking money so you'd look at my hands and hopefully think they'd look nice intertwined with yours.
Pink was the color of my eyes
Because I found out I was no different.
I should've known better because you told me it was the color of your cousin
And the strangers on the street.
I was hoping maybe I'd have a chance because
I bought you pastel pink flowers and hung up a partially pink flag
But I should've known pink was no different
Because the rainbow is so vast
And pink is simply the shade of the rose-colored glass.
