what it means to me

thirteen years
since I found
my asylum—my
place for peace.
after only a month in black
maybe even yellow
for the first time
when Stories.com
had its first
anniversary—announced
not celebrated.

I was blue
before life stepped in
and chiseled away
my online presence—once
upon a time, I went
to a real life gathering
and watched our
fearless leaders
propose and accept.
she made him kneel,
waiting, while she cried
for joy

and then I was gone.

a red case brought me
back, his welcome
caught my memory
of what I once had.

in black again
I wandered,
searching for
for my gang of like
minded friends.

so many lost now.
changed, departed.
I found the new.
yellow was a happy
color twice in my life.

Writing.com
gives more than
it requires—taking
everything from me
and more, until
I can touch starlight
and weave it into
word.

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