BLACK; Him. your enemy. a killer. your own damn father. His fists. the night swallowing His yells. they echo back to you. they come out in puffs of smoke and you can’t breathe. they say, “you were never good enough,“ and “this is all your fault,” and “you’ll never make it out of this house alive, kid.” Him Him Him Him Him and the stench of alcohol and the weight of despair.
RED; the bathroom with its tiled floors and florescent lights and shattered mirror that knows your cuts too well. you, trying to hold a paper towel to where He got you so that the blood doesn’t fall to the floor. after, standing in the shower. trying to remember a time when your body didn’t hurt.
WHITE; the acceptance letter. it comes a day late and your hands shake around the envelope. you open it in your room when you are sure everyone’s asleep and then you stare at it and you’re smiling and you can’t stop and you think, “i’ve made it i’ve made it i’ve made it,”.
ORANGE; the car. a camaro. you stop and you say, “i could help with that, if you want,”. your heart is beating fast and then he says okay and then it’s your car as well.
BLUE; that boy’s eyes. you aren’t allowed to call him your friend yet. he’s a stranger and he’s dangerous and he’s a monster and you can’t stop staring. one day he sits next to you and says, “can i copy your homework? i think i’m finally going to get expelled,” and then you laugh shakily and the pen he writes with is blue and it’s your favorite color.
BEIGE; home. you have four walls and a cardboard box and a mattress on the floor but they are yours. he sits beside you with his back to the wall and holds your hand and he keeps saying, “you’re home now,” and you believe him because in here you can breathe without breaking a rule. He can’t reach you here.
GREEN; the magic. you feel it in your bones. it’s a part of you and it’s strong and powerful and so are you. you’re here and you’re real and never has it felt more exhilarating to be alive.
— cacophony of colors ;