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Favorite Color By Jay Davis

Mom,
I wish I knew your favorite color.
The only one of God's many crayons that gets you to sit up straighter.
To unbraid your spine from a roach egg infested headboard.
I bet its red.
Like a sea I've never seen
But hear quite often in your voice late at night.
If it is,
I will strip my skin off my body.
Bare crimson flesh.
I'm sure that you'd look at me more often
If I was the color that makes you smile.
 
But maybe it's blue.
A sky light shade that can only be achieved by swallowing the saltiest sea
I will drown in the Pacific Ocean for a kiss on my corpse cheek
Because I often forget you have lips.
Only reminded when the moon gets home before I do
They bite.
Sting like thunderclaps
And you are oblivious to this.
 
Tell me it's black.
I will have no problem with ripping out these weak strands of hair
And stitching them to the left side of your chest
So you can feel your pulse in my scalp.
Except I know you were never one to wade in the dark.
That leaves white as my next option.
If this is in fact your favorite color
I will be forced to Novocain myself speechless.
Pull my teeth one by one out of my mouth and into my palm
Fist full of smiles that I usually only bless silence with.
I have a low tolerance for pain
But masochism would be worth it.
 
You love on a grayscale.
Like a schizophrenic paraplegic
Is it because your seven siblings stripped the rainbow from your throat.
Each draining a different color from the sky in your sound.
A shaky squeak left in a scraped up voice box
I can barely hear.
I want you to know
That there is Technicolor lining the insides of my elbows
So hug me, Mom.
Pretend that you like me long enough to capture the ultraviolet in my flesh.
Suffocate me
Caved in shoulders and a rising bosom
Squeeze the life out of me so that you can see rainbows again
Don't see it as a homicide
But a sacrifice for the greater good.
 
I know that now you probably think I'm crazy
That this is just another one of my phases.
But I'm not crazy, Mom.
Humans just have crazy tendencies when we want someone to love us.
I want you to stop living in black and white images.
Pay close attention to the movement in your children's pigment.
Maybe that way, you'll finally see that all five of us are in fact your favorite color.

Team New York City