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The rainbow of my life

by Clare Smith about a year ago in sad poetry
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snippets from my life

Pink

Twenty four hours of labour

Screaming, blood and pain.

Birth of a baby gir l

Pink with blushed cheeks

ten fingers and ten toes

Even if five were twisted and clawed

Blue

The hushed clatter of nurses

They move around me

The glint of my tears light up with uniform blue

The disinfectant, sour and stale pine forest

Musty operating gases, all sting my eyes.

Machinery bleeps and wails.

I join it crying for my mother.

The nurses blue haunts my life

echoes of my mothers navy blue

and I find myself wearing the same.

Red

Daddy dearest, his face ugly with bitterness

poisoned words in an alcohol fog, spit like furious acid.

Words formed to hurt, to wound

Again

Glowing with shame

alongside the fire of molten ire

Bubbling inside.

Snip, snip tiny acts of destruction, of rebellion

all to prevent eruption.

In the schoolyard

Blood flows from knees and elbows.

Injuries from the pushes and thumps of bullies.

School passes in a film of crimson,

Humiliation and firey rage

Black and white

My constant companions, closest friends

pages of prose in which I hide.

Within I become hero, villan or saviour.

All that matters, is I am no longer me,

Insulated in their creased and worn embrace.

Black

A colour I know intimately

The shadow of the black dog stalks me.

From which I hide behind a mask of caring and jollity.

Monochromal make up and goth clothing

my costume of hiding in plain sight.

People see that, rather than seeing me,

my eternal newborn

pink and screaming.

sad poetry

About the author

Clare Smith

I have always written and read a lot since an early age. I was a member of a writers workshop at school and wrote loads of poetry. Now I concentrate more on short stories and my novel in progress.

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