Colorblind

There was a time when she thought she knew what the color of love was.

That time now seems so long ago...

The memory fades like the ripples of a wave running away from a stone as it is skipped upon a blanket of water - searching for rest.

She is doing her best to recollect and make sense of this

potion of emotion

of this fable of fairy tales where

boy meets girl and they fall in love at first glance;

when sweet nothings waltz on the backs of sound waves as they reach her ear; a Disney lie of a dance.

Is it black, is it blue?

Is it purple, is it nude?

What

is

its

color?

She thinks she must have gone colorblind when she was about

three.

What she called green, others called yellow.

While hidden in a closet in an attempt to escape the hands of the sick,

that stole the innocence of a child;

all color disappeared for a while...

And as she grew older, when rainbows appeared, she would stop to speculate; debate and contemplate its colors...

somehow deep down knowing - she couldn't tell - she just couldn't decipher...

But she tried, oh how hard she tried squinting to force herself to understand its color scheme - fingers fumbling around that damned crayola box, desperately searching for that

one crayon,

whose vibrancy would reflect more than shades of grey...

Yes - even black and blue would do, like the bruises on her body

that she knew were there but couldn't see - wouldn't see...

Why

didn't

anyone

see?...

She was only

three.

As a young woman now, could the color be found in the arms of another? Or perhaps a "friends with benefits" type of lover?

Whom

could

she

trust?...

As she hands over paint brushes to color her whatever HE

pleases,

she allows him to invade that empty space for a litte while...

as he drenches her in that fateful color grey - in all of its fifty shades of

denial...

Her kindness, bound and whipped -

all hope - turned upside down.

Her longing for connection strapped up on a wall inside his

red room

of pain.

Could THIS

be its color?

Time

now leads her down the same roads that we all must travel, and as she becomes a grown woman - all she has built begins to unravel, and the lack of color in her world causes

all vision

to cease...

There

is a -tranquility that is found amongst the terror of the blind,

and she knows she is right where she needs to be.

With eyes wide shut - neurons fire in an attempt to interpert incoming shades of opposing rays

in an effort to absorb newly discovered

forbidden colors...

ones which they say

cannot be seen.

Have you not heard of Blueish-Yellows and Redish-Greens?...

These hidden shades cannot be found on the color-wheel, cannot be viewed by the naked eye or

in nature;

cannot drench her in a muck right after a meaningless

fuck... and

now

she rejoices in the fact that she can no longer spy the color of lies -

she forfeits the sadomasochist acts of the past,

and welcomes the splendor; beauty and awe of the new found

incorruptible schemes...

Yes,

she once was Colorblind but now

can

clearly

SEE...