Pink.

To the ones we have all had, all of us who dragged our feet into adulthood.
Those of use who’s inner children refuse to die and still linger…
We all have that stain in our subconscious in the shape of the one who stole our last shreds of innocence.

It’s probably an ex, but it could be a teacher, a healer, a family member.
That one person who made you realize how truly unfair the world is.
The one who made you see a darkness you had never fathomed.

Mine was TonyK Themaninpink and he wore only pink.
Is there any truer nightmare for a parent than hear tehir child say;
Mom, I was at Burningman, and I met a DJ…?

This was over a decade ago, before mental health information was plastered all over social media.
Before I knew how to recognize a manipulator and his manipulation.
Way before I knew who I was and where that person ended and others began.

It lasted only 6 months, but by the end of it I had aged 6 years.
Reality was playdough for him, twisting and molding it to his benefit…
I entered the relationship thinking I was starting to find myself, I left it feeling more lost than ever.

For a decade I hated the color pink, I couldn’t stomach it and would have none of it.
Rejecting along with it, a part of the femineity I held responsible for attracting such a monster.
But I guess time heal all wounds… because pink is slowly seeping back into my life, along with its power.

All of this to say, do you like my new neon pink hair? =P