Red is that feeling in your chest when you dip her so low that her hair brushes the floor, slightly. Red is  her lips when she pulls you in for another kiss. Red is all you can see when you come in and find her in the arms of another. Red is what drips down your hand when you smash a glass with it. Red is what comes out of your lungs when you cry out in pain, not at your hand, but at your heart. Red is the colour of her hair when you saw it for the very last time. Red.


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