Simmering, black, scorned with the life she has been destined to possess. Something to complain about, yet something to be so proud of.
She sits there, alone, waiting for someone to judge her. Hoping someone is listening. Wanting to fill the void in her heart and claim a space in this world.
Wanting acceptance but fearing rejection. It needs to end. She wants to stand tall with her head held high where no one can touch her. She doesn’t. She feels trapped, isolated, secluded from reaching out and showing her true colors. Orange, Yellow, Purple, Pink, colors of the beautiful flowers in her mothers garden she one saw years ago.
Lately those flowers seem wilted and dull.
Let them thrive. Let them be what they once were. It’s desirable, But fearful.
She wants a chance to step out and put on her best shoes and dance the night away with everyone watching. She will get her chance. Soon I hope. She wants to feel beautiful, looking in the mirror and putting on a mask so people can see what they want to see. Without it she feels ugly. Uncomfortable in her own skin, but so quick to judge everyone else for her own personal satisfaction. Its not the truth, she doesn’t want to pass judgment on anyone. She stands there feeling black and white while everyone is magnificently colorful. Or so it seems. Everyone has a secret, Everyone has a mask. No one dares to tell. Afraid just the same as she….ME.
I’ll go first.
Let’s change the world.
Together, in U.N.I.T.Y as the great Queen says.