Sensitivity reader

I find it problematic
that the grass is green,
that the sky by default
holds its luster in blue
and the sun like a patriarch
decides which shade
gets seen or thrown,
depending on its angle
of orbit and trajectory
any given time of day.

Why should any color
hold the status of primary,
with so many infinite tints
and variations bending
between the beads and lenses
of our water filled eyes,
let the colors be equal,
obliterate the wheel,
both black and white
act as absence,
mere distractions
from the rest of the world.

There's such violence
within beauty,
it assaults me,
holds me prisoner,
makes me slave
to sensation,
becomes my rapist
that I also love
and ask to be unmade
to keep me safe
from wanting more pain.