Pick a Color

It’s the color of anger and a burn on your skin. It’s the passion that you feel toward something that’s important to you. It’s the pain that you can barely bear to take and it’s a love that you never believe you could feel. It’s the pounding in your heart, whether it be cause by something as primal as hatred or as complex as music. Red is the courage to stand up for your beliefs. It’s the sweet, tart taste of strawberries and the smell of every rose imaginable. It’s the feel of a loved one being close enough to touch. It’s the fleeting hope you get when everything finally goes your way. Red is love and hate, hope and despair, and courage. Red is everything you’ve ever wanted, but the few things you could wrap your hands around. Red is understanding what you have, and loving every moment of it. Red is the embarrassment of a first crush and not knowing how to deal with it. Red is exciting.

When everything you want is torn from you, it’s the color that is reflected through you heart. When you can’t put up with the ridicule anymore, it’s the color that drips from your skin. When your life spirals into something you could never imagine, it’s the color you see wherever you go. When lies consume your entire existence, it’s the color that escapes your lips every time you open your mouth. When everything flips against you, it’s the darkness that draws you in. When you lie endlessly to your closest friends, it’s the color that becomes your life. It’s the death in a family or a loss of a friend. It’s the hate in a world of love. It makes up the existence of those you would never think of. It hides behind blank stares and empty smiles. It’s the color of pain and suffering, while, at the same time, being the color of ultimate strength under back breaking pressure.

Purple is royal, majestic and pure. It defines the standards of morality and grace. It’s vibrant and solemn. It’s loud and calm. It’s a walking oxymoron. Purple is faith and hope and praise and the assurance that your savior will come again one day. Purple is the butterflies in your stomach, fluttering the hours away until you can finally form a coherent thought. It’s the pride in your eyes and the smirk on your lips and the confidence in your step and the vanity in your heart. Purple is the technology in your hand and the conversations that you avoid in person because you can’t bear to see the other person’s reaction. It is cowardice and proof that you’re living an artificial life. Purple is unsure and hesitant, letting other people decide for them while they lay back and watch their life go by. It’s the pain that you hide as you reminisce your failures. Purple is the sign of struggle while you force yourself to go on, hiding behind lies and fake smiles as you gently test the bruises that others have left behind. Purple is the you that you’re hiding behind closed doors. But purple is recovery and perseverance. It’s the color of scars as they slowly begin to heal, reassuring you that things do get better. Purple isn’t a feeling; it’s a life.

When a new life comes into the world, it’s the color of the skip of your heart. When a laugh escapes a young child, it’s the color that their smile emits. When a grin appears from the face of someone who’s had a bad day, it’s the color that radiates off their skin. It’s the type of kindness that can’t be learned or the hidden mischief behind someone’s lost words. It’s attentive and caring, young and growing, and that serene feeling that comes from nature. It’s the world before technology: upbeat, open, and curious. It’s friendship. It’s survival. It’s the basic instincts that both gift and tear about our world. Green is the envy of those who want your success without working for it. It’s the greed that plaques the elite. It’s the naiveté of those who refuse to open their mind to bigger and better things. It’s the inevitable decay"fast or slow"of everyone you’ve ever known. But the inevitable is all worth it as long as you experience the brighter, lighter, greener side.

It’s his crooked grin. It’s the way her hair falls perfectly around her face. It’s the way his laugh just seems a bit too strange, but you don’t even care because it’s perfect to you. It’s the soft touch of her skin when you wrap your arms around her. It’s the smell of his neck that you could just bury yourself into and her short stature that lets you feel like you could stay in that embrace forever. It’s the sound of his voice above everyone else’s that makes your heart start to flutter. It’s the way she talks so passionately about everything, including you. It’s the butterflies in your stomach when you so much as think about his stupid habits. It’s that feeling in your chest when you’re the only one who can make her laugh on a horrible day. When you can’t think without their name popping up in your head and you want to do nothing but spend time with them. It’s the strength that you give to them and the trust you have to place in them for it to work out. It’s the power you have to give up so you can just be with each other. It’s the dependence you start to feel when they’re always the one there for you. It’s the heartbreak that’s bound to happen and the slow, painful recovery of the pieces of your shattered heart. Pink is unconditional, even if that condition is being apart.

It’s warmth. It’s sunlight. It’s peace and happiness. It’s everything you’ll ever wish for in your life and your confidence that you can achieve anything that you put your mind to. It’s the smooth sound of a perfect harmony, ringing softly in your ears. It’s the advice that you’re told as you’re growing up and the stubbornness to think that you won’t need it; you most definitely will. It’s the nerves that keep you on edge and the sugar rushes that you crave as a child. It’s accepting and kind. But yellow is decay. It’s the inevitable end and the road that you have to travel to get there. It’s that lump in the back of your throat as you’re willing yourself not to puke all over your mother’s new carpet. It’s the lies that people manage to tell you with a smile on their face and a glint in their eye as if nothing was even remotely wrong. It’s the pain of losing a friend, or the worse pain of not knowing how to say how you feel. Yellow is a lesson. Yellow is a journey.

Blue is calm and serene on the outside but something much darker deep down. It's smart and loyal yet deceiving at the same time. It's knowledge and thought while managing to be stormy and indecisive. It's as sharp as the cool, crisp air on a chilly winter night. It's the rain pounding against your bedroom window when all you want to do is sleep, but your thoughts keep you awake. It's the soft chirp of birds in the morning, reminding you that you have successfully made it through another day. Blue is the air in your lungs, the nerves pulsing through your body, and the gentle touch of the softest, sweetest kiss you can imagine. It's the constant tug-of-war between morality and sanity; blue is the never-ending battle between what's the right thing to do and what is right for you. It's power and honesty and higher thought but also depression and loneliness and never knowing where to draw the line. Blue is tricky.