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reflection

all the colors, refracted

By WordSmithtressPublished 3 years ago 3 min read
2
reflection
Photo by Keenan Constance on Unsplash

white light contains all the colors:

we learn this in science class,

watching a prism split a beam.

as light bounces off an object to enter our eyes,

waves of differing lengths encounter

the retina’s hungry photoreceptors,

which absorb and transmit,

through a whorl of nerves,

signals our brains will interpret as color.

yet what we “see”

is not the color a thing is

so much as what it is not.

for example: my iris

takes in all the rippling waves

except short, scattered blue ones.

so you see my eyes

as the color

they rejected.

how often do we show the world

the things we aren’t

instead of what we are?

for years i only wore black,

a color that absorbs all

the wavelengths on the visible spectrum.

black collects:

dust, cat hair, light.

it is the ultimate acceptor.

i wore black because it went with everything,

because it was safe.

black didn't stand out,

make a scene, elicit stares.

i was raised in a world

where women were born guilty,

smudged with sin,

creations tasked

with making others happy.

i learned to absorb criticism,

hang my head low. like a black mark,

i took it all in, i let go of nothing.

it wasn’t my place

to shine brightly,

shimmer, or be seen.

in that world,

colorful ones were dulled

into submission,

toned down, asked to lower

their voices, change

into something less noticeable.

wrapped in a shroud of mourning,

my true colors waited

while the dogma rained down.

one day, my dark cloak became so heavy

i could barely move.

when i wriggled out of its depths,

rejecting the expectation

to accept without questions,

i reflected for the first time.

my questions were quiet and small

but sometimes, it only takes a whisper

to blow away the clouds.

light streamed through at last

and rainbows poured out of me,

as if i were a prism

reflecting not what i wasn’t

but all that could be,

refracted and put on display.

i bought yellow shirts and pink platforms,

draped my hips in orange, wore brilliant parrots

on my shoulders, green on my lips.

i stood out, stopped worrying

about making other people happy,

embraced everything colorful.

i’m no longer an object

reflecting rejection to others.

i wish i could go back in time

to the girl wrapped in black,

that most comforting of colors,

and tell her there is no light without shadow

that black holds the rainbow,

it accepts all colors, even mine.

i'd tell her women aren't objects,

we don't exist for other people's comfort,

if we're tasked with anything,

its with creating a world

more beautiful than the one we were given.

i'd tell her to pay attention in science class,

raise her hand, and ask more questions.

i'd tell her

one day, she'll

light up a room.

performance poetry
2

About the Creator

WordSmithtress

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