The innate ability
to differentiate
the shades of peach
from those of papaya
has recklessly
passed me by
I try to match
the pigment
of my background,
yearning for
the color that
will provide the
perfect protection,
so I can rest
without fear
or judgment,
an isolation
of invisibility,
but I falter
every damn time
“Safety orange”
offered no safety
I clumsily strive
to perceive
the difference
between carrot
and tangerine,
persimmon and jasper,
tea rose and melon,
but the struggle
only ends in
tears of frustration,
inadequacy
Why can’t I,
like the others,
blend in?
I question
each choice
that led my feet
to the very spot
that now effortlessly
discloses my
glaring presence,
my failure to hide
But maybe apricot
wasn’t made for
camouflage,
my existence not
intended to dissolve
into an unknown backdrop
Perhaps apricot
is just showing me
as I choose to be
3 Apr 2020
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