once upon a time there had lived 

a princess in love with another.

there could have been books 

about journeys they took, 

but sea urchins would rip out their words. 

it was red and it bled vacancy

all through our schooling plans.

they’d have rather seen

my friends and i bleed  

than to know the red on their hands. 

it was orange and it was citrus 

made to fuel above the heat.

when they stuck with their mocking

and banned us from talking, 

we would just yearn for vitamin d. 

it was yellow and it shone its light 

where we wanted to be if it happened.

we would break our new pens 

and study ‘til ten

hopping ten-year-late trains to manhattan. 

it was green ‘cause it knew it had always been ready

and blinking to tell them to go. 

they never opened eyes 

to responsibly drive

or listen and get it and know. 

it was blue from its cutouts, its rips, and its scribbles 

and time spent on one splintered shelf

that was built by the senate,

“different time back then” generations,  

that deemed it not fit for much else.

it turned purple because they had wanted that. 

they took floors so their words could reach far. 

but they aren’t people who share. 

they aren’t people who care.

they just can’t have us know who we are.