As children we are told
Right and wrong are black and white
And the hard line between them is time and place
That green means good and red means
Leave no stone unturned but
Leave it cleaner than when you found it,
March to the beat of your own drum but
Stand in a single file line,
Have passion but pursue practicality,
Please others but don’t displease yourself,
They forgot to include the grey areas
hidden in the corners of our black and white world.
They didn’t tell us
That sundresses mommy made for you turn into lingerie worn for him
That compliments turn into cat calling
That holding hands turn into holding bodies
tightly, lovingly, forcefully,
That bodies turn into little grey objects.
To play with and destroy like little children with a brand new toy
Except we can’t replace this toy when we get tired.
Some of us had to teach ourselves to wrap stories around our shoulders for protection,
playing pretend for the rest of our lives;
Or never putting down those childhood crayons
But instead letting the colors flow through you
Filling the grey in a way that doesn’t belong to anyone else.
My green may never be your green
And grey isn’t bleak
An opportunity, an opinion
And grey is okay.