I wish I didn't write about you.

Red.

 

So Red.

That's what color you seeped out.

But please don't get me wrong, it's not

because that's the color of 

love

and passion

 

No.

 

it is the color that disrupts and scatters.

it's unnatural and intrusive

and it demands to be seen.

it's hot and it burns in the most bitter way possible.

like a sun burn that screams with every sting 

"it's your fault for getting

hurt

you 

stayed out in my too long."

 

Red.

The color that coats all your problems

The color that claims and invades and taints everything it falls on.

 

You.

The color that spills out of cut veins and curious hearts

The color that captures the mind and drowns it in chronic lies

 

Red.

Something I used to like

It was deep and unknowable

The color of a pervasive and vibrant sunset.

Something to be admired.

 

But now,

it is only the color I paint my mouth with when I'm angry.

This poem is about: 
Me

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