She ran to a land of summer and pink kimonos,
Where nurse sharks circled her ankles
And familiar familial flaws faded to vague memories of leather scented hugs.
She learned to walk dusty streets in bare feet, so she could hold the world in her toes,
Leaving crumpled dollars in the hands of beggars
Who saw her light skin as gold.
The cherry trees bathed her in petals soft enough to erase the scars that faded in the sun,
She learnt to run with her hair down and to eat kneeling at a table,
Rearranged her mind with the art of Feng Shui in an attempt to find a way to live away from the dictatorship of the past,
Collecting porous pebbles and lighting candles encircled in jade,
As old leather scents fade to incense and jasmine.
She strings lost stone on a necklace of wood and measures her life in the breaths to come instead of those she has taken.
Her heartbeat beats irregularly but no longer from fear and now adrenaline is synonymous with exhilaration.
And she holds sand in her palms,
No longer scrabbling to catch it as it falls through her fingers,
She now knows that life occurs between her hand and the ground.
She broke the hourglass because she no longer counts the hours
Or clings to the time that is gone.
She lives eternal and bright,
Clothed in sunlight
And a pink kimono.

You slipped
your wedding ring away
from the tip of your finger.
Your skin glowing
beneath the soft
light of the candles
I had treasure-mapped
around the bathtub.

You left
your dress on the floor
in a pool of paisley and whimpered
as the water of jasmine
and shea ballooned your inner
thighs into a deep
coral.

I touched
your pale shoulder, ripened
with freckles and held it
like I was stopping a finch
from flying away. You
sharpened beneath my hand;
your *******
the hairs on your arms.
It was a relief until
I couldn't decide whether it was happiness
or fear.

Pink and said to be mean
Your tentacles tend to scare me
You're often alone, are you lonely?
Drymonema larsoni... don't worry
We can be friends, just don't sting me..

Native to the Mediterranean, Caribbean, and The Gulf of Mexico..
Searching for Moon Jellies and feasting once they're found
They wrap their tentacles around- them and drag them in
What a cruel fate? you may think that but we do the same thing.

He lights up my head
with curse and demon
he makes me say things
we both know I don't mean
I'll shout "I hate you"
I'll scream "I'm leaving you"
The he does that silly smile
hugs me and put both hands
on my cheeks
blows away my anger
with one whisper to my mouth
saying "I love you" on them
and he'll continue
until we taste pink
out of the red lipstick
he ruins

I'm sorry, but
There's no better combination than
Pink Floyd and the Cannabee

Not even you and me.


-- Eleanor

From my window,
in corner of an eye,
see a pink flamingo.

Broad curves,
into familiar shape,
grounded legs,
Iron weighted.

Been there
for years,
quietly sitting,
amongst roses.

Pushed by storms,
changing winds,
yet surprising,
inner strength.

Retains balance,
keeps small piece,
staked out,
of much larger plot.

Slowly losing,
it's distinctive hues.
Dissolving,
fuchsia to palest pink.

Every family
has their own,
pale pink flamingo

Her lips were pink.
Soft and sweet against my own
when she chose to give me a taste
of her affection.

Her cheeks were pink.
Always tinted with that color.
I never found out if it was from the
cold, or makeup, or simply because
she was with me.

Am I the rose? Or one of the thorns?
Can I be both? For that’s how I was born
Am I the sunshine? Or should be the rain?
Can I be that together? For there’s a rainbow in the end

Do you look like him? Or sometimes like her?
You’re so into him, and can live without her
Are you one of ‘him’? Or a part of greater ‘her’?
Living on both sides which sometimes you cannot bear

Can we be called the same when we felt so different?
We have the right to live, but to leave cause of their resentment
We keep on telling ourselves we are who we are
But sometimes ‘are’ has to be ‘were’, and change just for their arms

I tried to hide myself, but still I just can’t
Whenever I am in my best, they’re always there to comment
They always trying to put me down, or making fun of me
That’s their way of handling me, they’re questioning my reality

I just can’t defend myself, I know I can but maybe I’m just tired
My existence is like a game that I haven’t gone too far
Expecting any sort of disappointment, every night and day
Sometimes I have to sing these words, ‘baby I was born this way’

Acceptance is just a word, and sometimes can no longer be found
You feel so sorry that at times you just can’t hide your heart
You put your mask on, so no one will ever see
That you are a boy loving a guy, you’re afraid of enmity

This thing is a choice, they say, but inside of me it is not
There’s no man ever wished that he will be living in this life
Full of hatred, full of pain, full of agony and despair
You cry, you smile, but you still strive to be in fair

This is a tough world, and I should be a tough one
Withstand all the anguish, and don’t let them make my walls down
Please don’t get me wrong and talk as if you ever tried
How to love unconditionally, how to live in a different life

Oh yes! I am ‘pink’ at least I know I’m not fake
I know I am unique and this thing you cannot break
I am too much to conceive that you just can’t even take
Try to understand and there your soul will be awake

I do still have feelings, don’t judge where I should belong
I have all you have, and I have more, and that’s make you think I am wrong
I can do more of what you did, and start what you haven’t done
Being a survivor of this world, that’s how we measure a true man

Sometimes I am red, and most of the times I am blue
See, I am colorful and it is something that you cannot do
I have been burned and my wounds were the living proof that I survive
I’ll be fighting till I can make it, and my strength will be revived

I may be far away of being a real man
Or not enough to be a good son
But I’m still part of the brethren and of God’s plan
I’ll be the most beautiful flower, and I will not be gone

Am I the rose? Or one of the thorns?
Can I be both? For that’s how I was born
Whoever I may be, I know I’ll be proud of me
And there's no one can ever play the best part of me except me.