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.



Source:http://www.hbo.com/russell-simmons-presents-brave-new-voices/cast-and-crew/team-new-york/article/favorite-color-by-jay-davis.html

I chose "Favorite Color" it speaks tremendous volumns especially what LGBT youth, and adults experincing young until they are teens ,and now adulthood. This poet expresses pain and heartache in this poem. I can understand where she is coming from because I have witness some horrible things pertaining to the LGBT community. Reading the words and actually listening to the author speak to her mom looking for her to love her for who she is and not treating her like an outcast can be heartbreaking. It is also overwhelming at times. The poets states, "I'm sure that you'd look at me more often If I was the color that makes you smile." The poet is comparing herself to color trying to decipher what color can her mom see's her as that will shine her love for her daughter instead of black and white images because her love is fading. 
The poet uses simile in this poem to create her setting and it reveals how she humbly feels toward her mom. The pain she endures as she speaks voice trembling because she wants to be loved and excepted not tolerated. The poet says, "You love on a gray scale. 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." To me she is saying her mom either loves her less or rarely shows any type of love and affection. Her mom is like a schizophrenic paralegic meaning she is delusional and she has withdrawn from her daughter because she is gay. The poet also says, 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." Her mom must have told her being gay is just a phase she is going through. The poet's mom could even tell her that she is confused. The poet wants her mom to understand her pain and understand that all she wants is for her to love her just the way she is because your sexual orientation don't define the character you uphold.