Poetry

Nail Polish

This poem was something I wrote when I was on a whim of creativity. I’ve always been a fairly emotional person, and sometimes that’s something I don’t like about myself. Sometimes I find myself wishing that I didn’t feel every emotion so strongly, and wanting to get rid of that part of me. I’ve always wanted to accept that part of me, and use it as a strength, and this poem was the first time I was ever able to express that.

 

She painted her nails yellow when she felt sad as a reminder that there was still light in the world.

So when she looked down at her shaking hands, they would be dripping with sunlight.

Enough sunlight to light up her entire being.

As if the yellow paint would seep into her bloodstream leaving her shimmering in light.

She painted her nails blue when she felt happy as a way to remember the sadness that she had once felt.

So she could stare at her tears that she had plastered on her fingertips and remember that they never go away.

But they do not control her.

As if her sadness being manifested in color made it seem less significant.

She painted her nails red when she felt afraid as a vice where she could mask her fear in electric color and artificial confidence.

So she could chip away at that feeling and watch that feeling fall to the ground like shattered glass.

As if they didn’t exist.

Leaving the shards that had cut her behind.

One day, she painted her nails every color that she could possibly think of.

She did this when she was feeling that inexplicable feeling that was both everything and nothing.

At her very fingertips she layered every emotion that she could ever feel leaving her hands glowing in technicolor.

And she felt more powerful than ever.

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