When I tell you I don’t really have a favorite color, 

I’m lying through my teeth.

And when I lie to you, the color sinks beneath.

I told you I don’t have a favorite color,

I was afraid of what you’d think.

When really, all along, my favorite color was pink.

Pink is what I always needed, it’s who I’m meant to be.

Pink doesn’t just mean romance, but something much more personal to me.

It’s the dogwood’s blooms,

And the blankets on my bed.

The cure to my glooms,

And the color inside my head.

As much as it might hurt, to tell you I’m the woman I know I am.

And that I want to live my life as the person I see in my dreams.

It can be so much pressure to hide, and sometimes I think

I can silently hope that I’m right to trust you enough to tell you

That I want to live my life in pink.