I was first taught to hate pink
when I was six years old
It wasn’t because someone sat me down
and told me about all
of pink’s misadventures
but rather because of the
condescending look
the protagonist gave the girl
with the pink bow and short skirt
rather because of the little girl
with a pink flower dress
who was shushed from screaming
when the blue boy grabbed her hair
rather because of how
pink made dinner
blue made adventures
pink sat quietly
blue laughed loudly

Ha!

I bought five pink dresses
and they all said
I am angry
I will wear one with bright red lipstick
to tell you
that I am as poisonous as the snakes
and an eyeliner sharp enough
to spear all misogynistic words
that pours on me everyday
like a raging tornado
a crackling thunder
a desolate tsunami
and I will say
I am angry
when you will say
Smile
You look so much prettier when you smile

I will grab your words by its tail
and crush them in my fist
before shoving them back
from where they came
and I will tell you that
pink is angry
in fact
every inch of pink
is covered in a furious fire
flames are licking its inside
burning its corners
and turning it black
it is a fire that have been burning
for thousands of years
inside every woman
and it is a fire that have grown
and it is a fire that wish to break free
It is a fire I cannot control anymore
I have been trying so hard to hold inside of me
you really must believe me
but now I have third degree burns on my throat
and it is not okay
that I am melting
while you are thriving
So one of these days
heaving magma
will spew from my big, angry mouth

but do not blame me
because after all
girls will be girls