Don't you wish we were
Pastel pink
Instead of a span of
Neutral colors?
Now that I think about it
Even then
We'd find a way.
It could be
The color of our eyes
The roughness of our skin
The scars we carry
Or the texture of our hair
We'd find a way.
The differences we judge each other by
They go deeper than our skin
Past the flesh
Past the bone.
They go deeper
Than what we choose to believe.
They go deeper
Than how we were raised.
They go deeper
Then the pain that we all
Collectively share.
The only way we could
Get away from it
Is if we were all
The exact same in every way.
Even then
I have no doubt
We'd all somehow find a way
To hate each other
And ourselves.
We're human.
We're comical in our intensity.
We're insane in our saturation.
We're at the end of every spectrum
And we can't be a mid-tone.
And sadly
The colors painted on
the canvas of our minds
Are not ones we can chose.
We can not wash out
With white
Or black
Or any span of color
What has naturally grown onto us.
Like ivy
A sanctuary
Of color
Made of memories.
The flowers grow
But you can never
Change them
Once they've bloomed.
You can never mix
White
And pink
To be pastel.
You can't change who you are.
You can only accept it
And move on
To grow further
Into your own person.
But at least
Be a decent person
And aspire to be
Golden.
YOU ARE READING
Air Conditioning
PoetryVent poetry It's frowned upon putting your heart on your sleeve with such a weak code like a three number pin. For both of our sakes I hope you aren't the type to spend your time digging your claws in and working to decode someone else's words an...
