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Color in Bloom

Updated: Apr 21, 2023

Brush in hand with paint dripping over fingers

Paint over my bruises like they are white roses

Make them pretty and blush

As if they stemmed from a garden

From a roaming wonderland

Pretending they never happened

I smile at the blurred mirror

I wonder when this will end

If it ever will

Time ticks too slowly

I wonder if it ever passes

Paint the bruise over again

The mirror looks the same

Fogged patches follow my reflection

Cycle of lies repeat until

The rain washed the paint away

I stand exposed in my true colors

Shades of red absorb into velvet petals

Sipping the pigment in their healing bloom

This is me yet

Not who I am

Stuck in waiting

To return to myself

A wish to forget cannot be granted

Without the shattering of technicolor memory

How I thought a bruise could never bloom

When I never gave it the chance to heal

The stem comes covered in thorns yet

I tread with my heart cusped in both hands

I refuse to suffer in such waiting

I know she is safe

When I am still here

I know she is me

When I am here for her

When my colorful memory turns monochromatic

My brush in hand wanders across the broken edges

I go to the mirror once my fine work is done

Seeing how beautiful I will soon recover

I wish I could have seen it sooner

Carried on with myself

If I knew any better

To never doubt who I am

Bruises blooming back to color

The blurred mirror clears

I can finally see myself again

It is only after they heal that I realize

How beautiful I was all along

No matter my state

I know who I am

How silly I was to ever let doubt

Trick me into thinking otherwise

Sonia Charales is a South Indian American poet, writer, and artist. She brings forward conversations around culture, nature, nostalgia, and healing process. Her work appears in antonym, Suspension Literary Magazine, Cordelia Magazine, Breadfruit, and elsewhere.

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Published in issue 5


Published in issue 5


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