Colored

She was the colors of the rainbow and I loved every single one.

She was red. Sometimes, when she was angry, she'd be as red as the fire from a dying star. She'd flare suddenly and fade off into softer shades, pinks and dark maroons. She was the red in the setting sky, the red that paints the colors in our skin. The color that flares from the slightest cut. She was the red of pain, the red of hurt, but also that of strenght. She had the beauty of a blood red rose and the aggressiveness commonly associated with the color.

Red suited her well.

Other times, she was orange. Sometimes rising, sometimes setting, always present. The color of fire sparked in a forest. Destructive, but beautiful all the same. The color of slowly oozing lava on a path of fiery rage. Orange like a flower that demanded to be seen. As tart as the fruit by the same name, but also just as sweet.

Orange colored her.

There were some days when she was the brightest yellow. She was as happy as the noon day sun. She shone with a brightness that was contagious and spread to everyone around. Sometimes her yellow was a bit murky. Happiness tinged with the dark of loneliness. Even still, her yellow still shone with a lovely intensity, not too much but enough to be noticed.

Yellow lit up her personality.

Green was a rare color. She grew with the complexity of a rainforest with the beauty of the vines that draped from the high branches. Plants of the highest beauty couldn't hold a candle to her. She was the grass covered in dew in the early morning. She was the hidden green when the sun rose from it's slumber. 

Green was a highlight.

She was also blue. Her moods raged like a stormy ocean to a calm sea. She was the constant, like the blue in the sky. She was the color of winter, the freeze in the air. Her thoughts flowed like water through the channels of her mind. She was the heavy feeling of rain before the storm, the crackle in the air. Her blue sometimes became dark, became lonely and depressing, became the heaviness of the world sitting upon her shoulders.

Blue was the lowlight.

Purple was a fun color. She was purple when she felt mighty and strong. Her royalty was described in the shades of purple. Purple was her confidence and all of her strengths. She flitted among violet and lavender, picking out hues as she went, mixing them together into a cacophony of the purples in the sky.

Purple was her strength.

She was all of the colors of the rainbow and so many more. She was the black of the void of space, in the absence of light found in a black hole. She was the white of pureness that she so rarely shared with any one. She was the browns  of the earth that reflected into the mocha tinged with gold that was her eyes. She is all of the colors that we can't see.

She is the red dwarf stars.
She is the fire.

She is the sun.

She is the forest.

She is the ocean.

She is the sky.

She is the void.

She is the light.

She is the earth.

She is the everything to me.