Red

by Madison Owens
(Florida)

It's strange to see how iambic our half hearted promises were.
Everything is okay.
Everything will be alright.
But tell me again, how blood stained fingernails and raw arms is okay?
How am I going to be alright when my world shatters every night.
Only to taped back together every morning.
I feel it inside me.
The flames ceasing, the light dulls.
I am dying.
These words will never make it past my lips, as I am already choking on them
But they are the sole reason that I cannot kiss you anymore. We are both feeble minded
To think
Anyone can be saved.
We spoke in colored languages so delicate that even you couldn't understand
You told me you couldn't be what I need
But I spilled the shades before you anyways.

Did you remember to clean up the red?