The color she will never grow too old for.
From her first doll’s dress to the lipstick shade that stained virgin lips red.


on tougher days,

Made her shine out from the blacks, browns and grays.

A saving grace,

From world that tried to tame her.

The color of her eyes when adversity almost claimed her

The aura of scars,

The color of unhealed bruises and burning stars

Different shades of open flesh,

New blood stains on an old summer dress

on better days,

The natural blush he leaves on her cheeks,

Cherry blossoms in sweet summer breeze

But most of all,

Pink was the color of her soul in this forsaken monochrome world

Against the rumors, plots and lies that get sold
among drowning clouds at dusk with a tint of gold

It was the colour of love,

the love in her heart that always brought her home


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