She Talks to Me in Colors

She talks to me in colors.

She shows me beauty everywhere.

She dances upon the waters.

She is the happiest when she’s there.

I watched her walk along those shores

many nights pacing in worry.

I placed my hand on her shoulder and

tried to erase her story.

But she didn’t want to forget.

She wanted to stand up and roar.

She wanted to use her own voice.

She was her choice.

To rise above the ashes and claim herself as the

queen of all the goodness that passes.

I’ve never seen so much courage.

She had mustered it all up in her chest.

She screamed as loud as she could.

I would have to say it had

to have been her best.

I sat in awe as the world listened.

Her mind had been set free.

Free from all the troubles that she

held onto for an eternity.

She set herself free.

This girl is me.