Red

I always envied the girls who wore cream cardigans and thought ivory thinks
I knew I could never be bright and white and scrubbed sudsy so I resigned myself
To pink
Not quite as dainty and lovely but fine
Better maybe, I try to convince myself
To be pink and interesting must be better than being white and perfect and adored and belong
But as hard as I try to fit myself in to silicone cookie molds
Squeeze extra fat into rubber yoga pants and spandex
Sew and stuff to silence and gloss my words, smooth down their meanings
The truth is
I am red
I am heavy and dark and discombobulated
I am storm and I am fire and then it dissipates without a word and you are scared
I'm different and I make you so 
So scared
I will never be white and I can't pull off pink
But damn
Do I look good in red