Birthright (Six-Colored Portrait)

Trimester (1, 2, 3)

Beneath my eyelids I'm livid
Too weak to impress I'm compressing
Pink - the sun beyond this layer of skin
I'd consider it pink if I knew any other color

II A River

Heavy weights - I'm stuck;
"Help I'm stuck under these heavy weights"
Wraps around my neck and my eyes are still closed until they aren't
I'm outside and I ask "can pink grow any brighter?"
She responds "He looks just like you!"

III Birthright

I wonder sometimes whether I am bird or a bat,
that is to say when I was born did I hang on a ceiling or rest within a nest?
The path is different but any which way I need to let go eventually,
but I forgot the question again

IV Sustinance (Survival/To Survive)

17 years later and the color is still pink,
variations and alterations, but still pink,
wings may or may not be open, but still pink,
to be or not to be, but still pink

V Renescence

Again the cord around my neck but this time I can do it myself,
Imagine shrapnel but it only enters inside
Though I see pink, something else appears before me
It asks "can pink grow any brighter?"

VI Yes It Can (Becuase It Appears Before Me)

Opened eyes glossed over with water found previously in II A River,
this time my eyelids aren't pink
I'm staring beside the sun so maybe yellow
(becuase staring straight into the sun can burn your retina's or so I've been told)
2 years and I frequent this occasion of looking beside the sun
even if it's for a second or two,
or however long it takes to muster the energy to lift my pink eyelids again
To see if I can see pink and some,
perhaps a yellow,
before colour does not grip me at all.

This poem is about: 
Our world


Additional Resources

Get AI Feedback on your poem

Interested in feedback on your poem? Try our AI Feedback tool.


If You Need Support

If you ever need help or support, we trust for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741