If I was a color, it would be red. 

I am silence,

Silence that suffocates, 

Silence that numbs the ears, 

Pure silence.

Yet I was born into a blue body.

 

Red seems so ill-fitting for one such as I,

I, who cannot be bold, 

I, who lacks audacity

Yet it is the only color I can see in my reflection

 

Blue describes my fear

(my cowardice),

My introversion,

And coldness

 

Perhaps I would feel more in place in the correct hue,

but alas,

I am red.

I am the lost

I am the forgotten

I am the strength 

I am the weakened 

I am matted fur of the injured 

I am the hurt

Yet, I am the one who stands again

I am the blood of the castrated bull,

Its thick veins only appear blue,

however, the blood will run crimson

 

I'll will drip from the bull

 

Its red blood forges letters to the blue

Hushes it,

While his beautiful horns will drive it away

 

My words give me the gall

My words make me red

My words darken my blue body

 

I am a loud poet

One with no silence