It’s fascinating how one colour can be so many things
The colour of the pain, of the blood in my vein
The colour of fire, of a deep desire
The colour of sweet bitter love, of the burning sun above
The heart in my rib cage, the anger and rage
The insatiate lust, of the flaky rust
The philosopher’s stone, the imperial throne
The danger signals on the road, the parasitic nematode
The fiery heat, the savoury meat
We all are reds of our own, we are not the titles assigned
We are not the summary on the cover
We are more than what they see
Bigger than what they think we can be


7 thoughts on “Red

      1. I still write in my journal, it’s how I blow off steam and keep track of all my writing.
        But I don’t care about the colors anymore, I just write. I used to choose a color based on my mood, the tone of the piece.

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