Paint me

Paint me red
for all my sisters who bled and
screamed and 
suffered to death because
they are forced to live in a nation
where they would rather have abomination than 
let a woman get an abortion and save not 1 
but 2 lives.
Paint me red because 
when that vessel of undeveloped bones
and jumbled up nerves and veins
with one heart will break,
there will be 4 hands bloody. 

Paint me black 
for all the black blood spilled,
for all the lives labelled unworthy
just because of the chromosomes in their body.
Paint me black for all white,
for the white that think they’re protecting people
and obeying laws,
for the white that are accepted with all their flaws.
Paint me black for the white who think
they aren’t part of the cause. 
Paint me black 
for the lives left in tatters.
Paint me black for those obligatory,
capital earning instagram hashtags
that read, #AllLivesMatter. 

Paint me a rainbow
with glorious streaks of blue and
purple and even gold for
all those who have been told
and taught and tortured about the 
righteousness for loving someone right.
Paint me a rainbow for the story of 
Adam and Eve because maybe nobody 
thought to perceive
that Eve was just short for Evan. 
Paint me green 
for the bruises on a smashed face
in the name of a superior race, caste or creed.
Paint me green for the trembling bodies
of innocents who can’t feed 
all because they’ve been named 
of the lower class,
whose lives today are still being dictated
by their tainted past. 
Paint me green for the jobs
still reserved to do by certain people,
for the absurd idea of being in control
of certain people,
of having power over certain people. 

Paint me a hue of saffron
for the mongolia flowers offered
to hindu goddesses,
in the name of which we 
disrupt into hateful wars and relentless riots. 
Paint me a hue of saffron because 
I wish people knew that priests in
the highest levels of a mosque 
drape themselves with the same saffron.
Paint me a hue of saffron and then ask yourself,
how are we different?
Paint me a hue of saffron, no,
Paint me a hue of basil
for the intricate designs of the basil-binded quran.
Paint me a hue of basil for the 
basil bangles and basil clothes that
Durga is dressed up in. 

Paint me a river of tears,
of sweat, 
of hate, of love,
of anger, of pain. 
Paint me a river of insanity,
Paint me a river of humanity.