I’m light as a feather. Ha. That kind of seems obvious doesn’t it? Yeah, I know how I look. But, I’m not talking about my weight. Just listen for a second. Perhaps I should phrase it differently. I’m light as the color white. Does that sound better to your ears? Are your eyes more appreciative of that wording? No? Maybe they just need an explanation. Stick around for a little while. I promise I won’t try to seduce you. I’m light as a feather, remember?
Oh, lighten up. How bad can I be? I have no color. A white outline never hurt anyone. That’s right. An outline sounds better, doesn’t it? That’s all I am. A silly little outline. Perfectly drawn to hold all the color I have the potential to possess. Beautifully shaped to carry all the shades that have the power to replace me. And what’s even worse, or better I suppose, for you, is that the power hanging above me is doing just that and only that. Hanging. Dangling directly above my outlined head. Flirting with my golden locks and almost getting trapped inside.
But, still, I’m white. I’m colorless. I’m laying on a white bed, covered up by a white sheet. I’m dangling my feet off the edge. The little black lights stay suspended in mid air above a floor of dark colors and mixed hues. A pool of blacks and blues; swirling and tempting. They’re calling me. My little marks of ears hear the whispers. You called to me.
My thin, drawn fingers reach up and pull the sheet away. My scrawny feet hit the pool beneath me. And suddenly I’m held down by color.
That’s right, I’m standing up. Standing up on my own and joining the world in a race towards perversion. I never knew how good it would feel. That’s right, I was sitting on the side lines up until now. I was light as a feather. Light as the color white. I didn’t mean anything and on a scale of 1 to wanted I was falling short.
Ha. But not anymore. That’s right, take that you disgusting, tainted, fucked up world. I’ve stepped out to join you. And for that my feet are heavy as lead. For that I have toes and soles to prove I’m getting there. Turning slowly into something worth forgiving.
Sit down. I’m not done. I didn’t stop there. Standing wasn’t quite enough, dark enough. This perversion, I swear, was like a drug. It crept up my ankles. It gave me muscle, something to stand on. I started having substance. I was relearning how to walk. Like the first time I did it I would have floated away. I was transparent. But this time, oh, this time I was seen. Try looking through me now, you bastards. I was walking with distinction. I was tainted. I was worth hearing.
From my ankles it attached itself to my legs. Crawling quickly up my thighs. It spread like fire and it burned just as badly. It was color at its sickest. Like a bloody rainbow. Made of the worst shades of red. I was beginning to feel the pain. Already, I was sensing the sting. But, believe me, that wasn’t enough to stop me. My arms still fell like lines at my sides. My head still saw the world through two dimensional eyes. The burn in my legs wasn’t enough to hold me back. If I was going to hold my name, I’d have to endure much more. I’d have to claim much harder. If I wasn’t to be pushed aside, I’d need to be colored in much more completely.
My shins and calves were defined. Colored in and shadowed. Thick with weight and testing out their ability against the harsh black of the ground. My upper legs tensed and released with the pressure of the run. They were pulling me into the unknown. A door of colors and shades. Dyes and stains. I reached it with a burst of pigment. It wrapped around my waist. Holding tightly between my legs and pulling closely around my hips. It gave me definition and detail. It filled in the outline. From only a few steps I went from the sidelines to an opponent against my own conscience. My lines and borders were being filled. The cost was laying in my sheets. But, still, I was seen.
From there I felt it fill my stomach. My ribs grew strong. My lungs expanded with dirty air. Through nostrils that weren’t yet there my chest grew large with tainted oxygen. Dirty black and grimy gray settled in the bottom of my learning lungs and surrounded my amateur blood. I was touchable now. In the best and sickest ways. I had something to offer. I had more than a pathetic mindset and stupid whim. More than a confession and I childish hope. I had enough to surrender. And so I had enough to be worth taking. I started to feel it. In the pit of my newly formed stomach I felt it groan. They’re going to take something from you once you’ve got enough to give. But by then it was too late. The hue of pale distinction was creating me a heart. In the middle of my chest an explosion of off rhythm art started. Like a disturbing cadence it beat within me. Sick and twisted it spread my new blood through my freshly formed veins. And it burned with a familiar sting. But, that I was glad to feel.
I’m not going to lie to you. I didn’t hate much of what it did to me. Laying in that white bed felt useless. Who saw me there? You didn’t. Admit it. You could have left me there to rot and you would have noticed no difference. No one would. Even in my white, colorless profile I could tell that getting up was pointless. I was nothing without a mess of color left behind me. A mess of color was left before me and what choice did I have but to bathe in it?
Okay, okay. No more questions. I’m sorry, I’ll stop. Just please, let me finish. It’s the least I can do…
From my heart it attached to my neck. It spent little time there and crawled into my skull. Inside the thin little lines of my perfectly framed head it went to work painting a mind. The burning lit my world on fire. Oranges and reds. Even blues danced across my eyes. My weight went from light to lead. My color white to black. I had mass to measure. I had size to scale. I wasn’t floating or drifting or dangling or being useless or proving pointless. Somewhere between my sheets and my shame I found a body and a mind and a value worth selling. I sold and sold and sold and the product of my business was the privilege to feel worth it.
Don’t go. Wait. I’m an outline remember? A little outline never hurt anyone. Sit down. I’m almost done. Just let me get it out.
When you first saw me, do you remember? No, because I wasn’t there. Not really. Not truly. I was just a rough draft. I was merely a blueprint. I had no color, I had no weight. I had no history. I was clean. Pure. Void of all that could be confessed. I was the epitome of waste. I wasn’t worth a second thought. You wanted dirt. I saw it in your eyes. No one wants innocence.
Sit down. We’re going to get to the bottom of this if it kills me. It’s killing me. It did. And I have a right to know what you wanted.
You didn’t want me clean. You didn’t want an untouched body. Or an innocent, open mindset. You wanted history. You wanted scars, and marks, and bruises proving I’ve been somewhere. You wanted white to hold my wrists. Red to grace my thighs. You wanted my ribs to wear just the right shade of purple so my face could pale just so. I felt it in your racing heartbeat. Speeding up when I admitted what I’d become. I saw your eyes shift and shine when they saw what had replaced my sketch. I saw your mouth water when I showed what I could offer. What white lines and angles could do for you. I saw your lungs stutter. I saw what I was worth in the reflection of your eyes.
Do you remember now? How I left my warm bed and joined the world? Remember how I used to look? Colorless and light. Untainted and joyful. Remember when my feet were undefined and my mind was undeveloped. When I had no shadows to offer. Remember when my impression was firm but weightless?
Wait. Just let me get this out. It’s all a waste anyways. I’m just a waste anyways. Just let me see your goal. Just show me what you wanted. Tell me where you were trying to get. I was light as a feather. Remember? I was light as the color white. And you changed that. Please, just tell me why you changed that.
Don’t go. Remember, I’m just an outline. I won’t hurt you. Just tell me, why did you do it? Why did you hate me so much the way I was. Was I not light enough to carry. I wasn’t bright enough to live with? What made you want me any other way?
I left the white behind for you! And in turn I went outside and I was seen. You gave me color and I gave you a secret. I couldn’t stop and you kept giving me shades of red. Darker and deeper and costing more. Darker and redder until I was turning black. Like the pool beneath my bed. It was a drastic change. It was contrasting with my sheets. I was the negative of my sheets. I was a silhouette.
I’m light as a feather. I don’t know any other way to say this. I go unseen just the same. I wear my shades with disgust and I color your world with recycled sins. I lay in my white sheets and taint them with black. I hide out here and keep my darkness to myself. And who are you to say you noticed?
I’ve been outside. And every color pales in comparison to white. I would know. I was filled with it once. I was overflowing with a heavenly color. The absence of it. A nothing that spread to all the parts of me that you had yet to taint. My sheets were pale and flawless and they wrapped around me with unseen intensity. I was protected by a colorless shield. I was unseen but I was safe. I was unseen and I had everything to offer. You stole that from me. You seduced me and you taught me well. You showed me what you wanted. You showed me what the world wanted.
They want more than a silly whim, sweetie.
They want darker than a pale impression.
They’re going to ask for more than you have to give.
They’re going to look black against your transparent flesh and they are going to flee unless you open up and give them what they want.

I lied.
I’m trying to seduce you.
You taught me so well.
It sounds good, doesn’t it? Fire and blood and color and stains. Really something to bury your eyes in. Something to run your finger tips over.
Come on, step off your sheets.
I’m the pool of pretense waiting to color you in.