gray

She was green and I was purple and in the middle we were gray.

And every time we tried to stretch in each other’s light we injured each other and became less of who we were.

So we retreated to our own worlds in our own colors where we felt safe. 

But in the middle there was gray. 

And it was hard and soft and light and dark and too much and not enough of everything that life is. 

And if I could change it I wouldn't. 

I would do it all again. 

Because she made me. Good and bad. Every piece. She made me purple so she could be green and we could be separate but equal. She gave and took and so did I. And in the end it was balanced. 

Like gray.