Negative, but (A poem for World AIDS Day)
© FreePride Foundation Project
Red comes from pink comes from white
It oozes; no, it seeps,
out.
The open air. No longer shameful
My secret out.
At least I know I will live,
but no longer with shame,
no longer with guilt,
because
Red comes from pink comes from white
Why am I even here?
Here come the thoughts
precipitated by anger , regret and
images
of the mind and the room.
Messages and morals look down
at me in two dimensions and colour
but the only colour I see now is
Red comes from pink comes from white
She tells me how her partner
also had others.
She was also at risk
He also lied
“It’s so easy for them nuh!“
Tells me a secret, confidentiality breached.
I know, it’s our secret. I smile.
I’m back in the room,
dropped back in this box with
its table and bed
and the cold, so cold.
I am truly here.
“Cold today nuh, you don’t have any blood”
the nurse tries to joke .It is well worn,
like I feel.
The prick is fast, just fast enough.
The cold is cold, but not cold enough.
She squeezes and gets
the red to come from pink to come from the white of my arm.
It goes down, to white and blue.
It spreads.
The nurse comes back,
the room seems different.
The posters have lost their colour.
TB kills, get tested,
health and vitality is possible,
life is your right.
She gives me that look,
reassuring, but not enough to erase the
“what if you are? What would you do?”
I watch and wait
I wait and wait
I pray and wait
I hope and wait
to never have to see again
Red come from pink come from white.
This peom was first published on the author’s Blog Jawonthefloor
