The Illusory Light

As the paint-soaked brush lightly glossed the enamel of my nails, I felt the cool purple color brighten up my mood. Until, my mother said, “You’re painting your nails pink?! You hate pink!” I was so confused as what I had originally seen as a bright purple quickly changed before my eyes into a hot pink. How disgusting. And then I noticed the light. As I went from room to room, outdoors to indoors, I noticed that the nail polish looked different. It was pink in some instances, and the desired purple in others. I ended up removing the color after a couple of days because of the bad lighting that shown pink.

I can’t help but wonder if this is how I look to people. On some days they see me in good lighting and on others I’m that ugly shade of pink. I want to be their favorite color every single day, a ray of light in the gloomiest of times. Days pass where I know I’m just a robot, going through the motions, walking without shine like a dirty, dull penny. At the end of the day, I can’t help but ask. Did I even say hi to them? Did I smile? Did I try to bring them hope? I took off that nail polish. What if someone decides to take me off? To take me out of their life?

Today, my nails are colorless and I am satisfied. They are natural. They don’t shine or sparkle, but they feel like me. Today is a clean start. I’m radiating my natural light. I’m hoping I shine to you. I’m hoping I can shine through you. And that you can spread that shine through someone else.

This poem is about: 
Me
My community

Comments

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 CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741