from black and white to color

When I was 13, I wrote a story of blood and gore. Ripe, scarlet blood flowing down my legs and arms, as I lie in the pristine white porcelain bath. Will anyone find me? Will my life flash in black and white photographs before my eyes? Will anyone, even myself, care?

A decade flies by, I'm still here, Why? I'm still as useless as I was before. My secret still contained. My body still aches and my mind still wanders. What the hell did ten years do, nothing.

The truth comes out at 44. Why? It comes out shining like a bright double rainbow bursts onto the scene at the end of a rainy day. The truth it really does set me free. Who cares? I care. Let me shout my truth in red, yellow and orange. Feel my pain melt away with blue, green and purple. Wrap me up in a bed of colors. I want you to HEAR me. Hear my truth. See my truth. Taste MY rainbow.