Red
It's the color of my dreams
It's the color that seeps from my wrists
The color I've known most
The color of the violence surrounding my life
The color of the void surrounding my ever darkening soul
The color that I see when I'm mad.
The color of the pain others have inflicted on me.
But
It's not the color that suits me.
Black.
That's the true color
The color that helps me hide
The black long sleeves that cover everything up to my slit wrists.
It helps me feel at ease
Black fits into my life like my soul leaving my body
But when red and black collide you better be far
Nothing can escape me once the real me is let out to play. Not even myself.
YOU ARE READING
A Fight With Depression
Short Story(Trigger Warnings) Do not read if you are bothered by reading very real everyday senarios such as suicide, self harm, and other things that tend to mend with having most mental illnesses. This book is a different book where every chapter is a short...
