She loves the color red.
I don't know why,
but she just does.
Every time I see her,
she smiles at me
with a beautiful grin that'll always shine.
Everyday, she'd wear the color red.
On her skin,
her arms, her legs,
her tears.
Lines of red,
pulsating on her bare arms,
dripping to the ground.
She stood there,
from across the room,
she smiled at me.
The color red all over her hands,
her grin wider than usual,
she was vibrant.
A few steps towards me,
red footprints imprinted on the floor
with each step.
She loves the color red,
she pointed her favorite toy at me,
wishing to see the color red pour from my head.
She loved the color red,
yet red was all she could see,
once we heard a loud bang.
She collapsed to the floor,
pouring red everywhere on the floor,
along with everybody else laying down because of her.
Her red, dead eyes gazed at me,
the red liquid slowly flowing towards my feet,
reaching me.
She loved the color red.
Maybe one day, I will too.
