Red, Blue, Purple, Brown, Yellow, Light

First it was bright red, like the red rose
he gave me with a kiss on our first date.
Two days later it turned blue
as his eyes, a blue
so cold as arctic air blows.
One morning it changed anew
to purple, a painful purple, purple-black.
That’s when I cried recalling his attack,
and my bones shook.  You low of the lows!
Who said you have the right to abuse
another human being? I don't hate
you—I said in the mirror when the bruise
had turned brown and yellow.  I choose
a life of self-respect now, but you, you lose—
I repeated in my head when the bruise healed late
one evening at last.  You lose because you chose hate.
You lose because you pushed me and I fell, but I‘m back
up, reborn under a rainbow of light. Life is good. I am great.

Patterns

For years I
people like me
very young and old
the sick and the dying
the scientists and priests
the nurturing and the kind
the lonely and the slaved
looked inside and out
to discover and
to decipher
patterns

I don’t
know why
they all needed
to solve these patterns
myself I know only wanted
to stop the crying
wishing that
I was never
born