Pink is an unhappy hue, not soothing like cerulean, nor calming like lavender or gray. It is the color of fingernails shorn away, blood dripping from the waxen quick. It is the color of a sunburned arm. The color of harm that lingers on cut shins for days. Pink is not the shade of buttercups or daisies. It is the color of poisonous brugmansia blooms, of poppies that bring on sleep. Pink saturates the face in anger. It is the cast left on a cutting board by a hunk of uncooked meat. Pink, too, is the bittersweet shade of passion subdued, passion that has slipped from burgundy to rose. It is only a tincture of desire and so carries the least conviction. It is the tint that drifts away unnoticed in the night. Be frightened of pink. Do not think it the innocent color of dresses or barrettes, the blush of areolas, strawberry snow cones, or grenadine martinis. Try, for once, to see it rightly. It is frightening. It is the hue of a person’s insides, the color of a womb. That room where life arises. That room where babies are made. Where arms, legs, and heads are created. Eyes, blood, and tiny teeth.
Body & Body Image
Love & Relationships
a figure of speech in which words repeat at the beginning of successive clauses, phrases, or sentences
written or spoken language in its ordinary form, without metrical structure
a metaphor that extends through several lines or even an entire poem
visually descriptive or figurative language, especially in a literary work
A rhyme involving a word in the middle of a line and another at the end of the line or in the middle of the next.
a word group (a statement, question, or exclamation) that interrupts the flow of a sentence and is usually set off by commas, dashes, or parentheses
words used to invoke the five senses (vision, hearing, taste, touch, smell)
A rhyme where the words have similar sounds in their stressed syllables.