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Anya Schaaf

You used to tease me about it being my favorite color

Said it was adorable how much I loved it

You laughed when I insisted our furniture be pink

And promised we’d pick out the paint together

You changed your mind when your sister’s suicide note was written in pink

Our furniture was painted black

I used to dream of having a little girl of our own

A child we could spoil like a princess

You bought pink wallpaper for the nursery before I could

And claimed she’d turn out just like me

You changed your mind when our stillborn was wrapped in a pink blanket

I wore black for months

I used to only buy shades of pink lipstick

A different one for every occasion

You were surprised when someone paid for our meal

And said pink must be our good luck charm

You changed your mind when we were hit by a pink convertible

All I could see was black

I used to think we would last forever

The pink album held our promises

You held on tight to my hands

And told me I was worried over nothing

You changed your mind when your blood soaked through my pink dress

My skin was bruised with black

I used to believe pink was beautiful

That it held the key to joy and happiness

You kissed me until we were both left breathless

And convinced me everything would be okay

I changed my mind when they laid pink roses at your grave

Black is my new favorite color

Spring, 2019 Issue

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