red. the color in my veins, the color that comes out of my veins, the color that always ends up under my fingernails at 12 am when everything turns to live wires crackling in the rain.
stop. unpiece this. the shrapnel. the collateral damage. the aftermath. the way everything somehow turned achromatic when i wasn't looking. I've become so used to the red but this morning i woke up and all the color's been drained so tell me what do i do now.
strip a person of their color and what are they? are they a monster? are they broken? are they simply a body?
tell me what's the difference when nothing ever leaves unless it's to make room for something else. they say consistency is key and I'm begging for a different door to unlock but with all the color gone i can't tell which one's red.
red. always back to that. it's so messy when it's all you know but the absence of it was never clean either. drowning in it was never ideal but the lack of color is suffocating and I'm running out of oxygen fast.
shades of red // k.
a/n- this chapter got deleted somehow (thanks wattpad) so I'm reuploading after i had to remember it from scratch
YOU ARE READING
this is everything i didn't say
Poetryand then there was one //if you know me, please ask before reading this, it's very personal
