The Forgotten Side of the Moon

Blood as Paint

I'm filled with pleasantness as I hear the crackling from the fireplace and the moon greets me from my living room window

Brushes lay next to me as I gently grab the biggest one and brush gentle strokes across the white canvas, creating a relaxing sound with the surface's gradient

I mess up on my imperfect painting and frustration slowly starts to build inside of me. My chest gets tighter as I notice the most important color is gone

My heart beat overcomes the sounds of the fire burning in the background and I feel insanity sink in. With the paint gone, I quickly reach for a sharp blade and prick the top of my index finger

A large, fat drop of dark blood emerges from the wound. I smile to myself as I notice it is the color I need to complete my creation

I place my shaking finger on the canvas and glide it as I feel the rough texture burn a bit but I don't mind. I need to finish this painting no matter what

My head turns by reflex as I hear a sound outside of my house. The wind is knocked within me, my lungs crave oxygen, and my eyes nearly bulge out of my eye sockets when I stare across the window and into a stranger's face