Destructive Criticism

Red, yellow, blue.

I repeat, over and over

red, yellow, blue.

But I can’t

repeat that out loud.

Mocking me, the people

pointing at me and laughing at me.

Why? What did I do?

Is it the way I put myself in my image

or the way I put myself in your image?

Red, yellow, blue.

No, not out loud.

The faces staring at me, judging me

like I have a bug on my face.

I’m proud of me, why can’t you

be proud of me?

Colorful circles swirling around me.

What colors?

Red, yellow, blue.

Xanadu