you are electric blue,
charged up,
wreaking havoc like there's no tomorrow.

you are fiery red,
up in flames,
resisting change,
can't keep a straight face.

you are blood orange,
smiling through the pain,
a cheshire cat stare.

and you are sunset yellow,
soft and kind - the warm embrace of a lover.

you are a stroke of violet,
taking life as it comes,
slow, unwavering.

you are the pink of cheeks that blush,
a slow dance in the kitchen at midnight.

you are starry night black,
flawed and beautiful and eternal.

you are green swiveled into white,
serene, calm, still.

you are the full spectrum.

so do your dance and paint every empty canvas with your palette a different pattern every time -
this is why you are alive.

It was a joke
he didn’t mean to lift his hand
he didn’t mean to bring it down

he didn’t mean to raise it a second time
he didn’t mean to commit a second crime.

He didn’t mean it.

But if everyone got pardoned
for the things they said and did without meaning,
everyone would hit
and no one would mean it.