Maroon

unlike T Swift,
I despise it.
Call it burgundy,
oxblood, or
even garnet.

See, this colour
takes me back
to a dark
place.
A place of
fear, hurt,
abandonment,
heartbreak,
in fact, near-total
annihilation.

And this was
more than twenty
years ago,
and the doer of
the deeds is
long gone.
The scars
are mostly healed,
and tattooed over.
Yet.
Burgundy has
the uncanny
ability
to bring it
all back.
Short, staccato
flashbacks
of a horror movie
which was once
my life.

The camera swaying
BlairWitch-like,
the fear tearing the
back of your
throat.

Enter a new maroon,
stage left.
Something cozy
to cuddle up in,
a glorious
gift.
An extension of a
new love,
a kindness, a
generosity.

And if you know me,
you already know that,
in the moment,
I clutched out,
and tried to hide inside
my shell.
Avoiding the colour
while being
unable to use any
of my words.
We now know
that freeze
is in fact a
“valid” trauma
response… More on that
another time.

In the meantime,
I’ve opened up
the insides of this
new giver,
(in my mindseye!)
and have decided
to ask for my
gift back, for
every scared girl
deserves to grow
into a powerful
amazon, understanding
that beautiful
colours
really are,
for everyone.

~Lu