Brown Blue Jays & Red Blueberries

Brown Blue Jays & Red Blueberries

I’m the masterpiece of a color-blind artist

I’m green like the leaves on the edges of hollow trees

I’m the hollow hallways of gray school walls

I’m the yellow walls of a golden honeycomb

I’m a comb running through dark brunette hair

I’m the black hairs on the neck of an underappreciated ant

I’m the beige unfinished and forgotten last pages of a coloring book at a rummage sale

I’m the bright orange letters on a for-sale sign plunged into the conversations stuck on the back of my tongue

I always used to chameleon my colors based on what I thought the other humans in the room preferred to see

It was never a guarantee of acceptance, but it did guarantee they would never see me

The silent gray days are the ones that taught me how to find the sun’s rays

Warm blue skies became my fingertips

Worn white clouds formed my fingerprints

Millions of melted cartons of crayons made up my spirit

Colors so loud you’d swear you can hear it

I’m a plant sized place on the prairie where lightning crashed against the grass and created a new color

Part sky

Part earth

Part electricity

A color that has never been named

A name outside of a color

A shade of everything and everyone