When I become overwhelmed I color.
I want to cry
I want to scream
I want to look my best
I want to like my own skin
If I could compose the miraculous fountains of thrill that bubble up from wherever laughter comes from
I would find the soften notes and make them louder and find the harsh notes and make them softer
Because I am worth it because those who are like me are worth it
I may never speak again to those who constantly kill the conversation
I may never speak again
Due to absence in my adult conduct to filter away any truth I want to… and pretend
Like denial is one of those things
Who with wisdom of denial would want denial
I cannot filter it away
I cannot filter discrimination of those the world consider disabled away
I am not defected
If you use me daily it will never satisfy you
You will never remind me enough to be like you
Because I simply cannot
I am me

Give me back my Crayons, I just want to color now
©colleenranney
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