A Black Rose

6am.

Alarm clock goes off nudging my previously sleeping mind.

The air is cool, winter has arrived.

No snow.

No ice.

Temperatures well above freezing, thankfully, but I can't stop my intermittentl shivering as I venture towards the bathroom.

The showerhead's warm water soothes my body's apprehensive skin.

This can often be the hardest part of the routine.

The catalyst guaranteeing my day has begun.

Bob Marley sings about a love lost and whether it was worth it.

Introspection follows.

As I dress myself I wonder why I see it fit to dress myself in these colors.

Looking as somber as the dark morning sky outside.

Today, my pedals as black.

Same as the ashes in our fireplace.

Same as the coffee I'm soon to drink.

Same as the shadows that will inevitably be cast once daylight breaks.

Today, I am a black rose,

As bold as it's red cousin, subtle as it's yellow counterpart.

We all come in different colors, shapes and sizes.

We are, however, all able to choose our individual shades, from day to day.

And today I choose to be myself. 

We The Roses

11/24/14