By Maria Okumura
Yesterday fades forwards into today, mixing into a mesh of ugly colors.
I reach forward and try to pull them apart, prying one away from the other.
But they retreat into the sea of past days, disappearing into an army of identical soldiers.
Why are they all so similar?
The next morning reaches for last night, I step between them.
"No more." I tell myself, grabbing my day by it's shoulders and dragging it along.
Today will be different, it will be it's own color and it will never fall back in with the others.
We go to the mall, but it doesn't change.
We go to a friends, but it doesn't change.
We go to a theme park, a museum, anywhere you could possibly think to go.
But it still refuses to change.
"Why won't you be different?" I ask the day as it tries to slip back to it's predecessors.
"I am different."
"Your the same as the rest, the same mesh of ugly colors."
"Who said you could judge how different we are by color?" it paused and shook its head at me. "I'm a star, no, I'm an animal! no I'm a mountain, a forest, the sky.
If you judge us by what we look like, when you can only see through eyes that are blind, you'll miss our beauty. Yes, many of us are similar, but many of us are different and unique.
stop trying to make us all what you want us to be. we're what we're supposed to be."