My favorite color 

Used to be red.

How easy it was to swipe the shade

Across my lips

And pull it over my head

To hug my body. 

But they didn’t like that color on me

Only liked to see the dress

On their bedroom floor instead. 

      They  convinced me all the time  

I started to think it was ugly too.

So, I kept it hidden away

In the back of my closet. 

For so long all I wanted to see was the beauty

Of that color.

To give it a second chance.

How was I supposed to know

That stop signs 

And red flags 

Were bad

When they were disguised as

Warm eyes and strong arms

A warning sign 

I brushed my hand to reach for

But was too late. 

I stopped making tallies

For how many times

I lost a crack

Of my heart

Every time I had the chance

To run away

I went back.

Because I mistook 

Slurred words for confessions of love

And flowers in exchange

For sex 

For romantic gestures.

But it was nothing I read in books

 Or watched in movies.

So, was it all a lie?

But they knew every inch of my body 

Like it was their own creation

Instead of remembering my favorite color

So, I guess that’s enough.