In Red

In Red is where my life is.

That large blaring red light that deserves a sound but doesn't have one.

I am swimming in this pool of red,

Unlike anyone I know.

They lie in their pool of green and blue, a normal colour to be in.

In Red is where I am sitting.

That large red light that seems to cover my eyesight because I've lost my train of thought.

I'm supposed to be escaping this red.

But in the red is where I belong.

The little prickling needles that poke into my fingers.

And the large blade that slides across my arm sometimes even my wrist.

My eyes blood shot from the lack of sleep that came with escaping.

Escaping what?



This poem is about: 
Our world


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