Alone with my thoughts

Red.

                                                                   TRIGGER WARNING!!!

Red, seeping out of my every pore. Red, cascading down my arms legs and chest. Washing away all of the pain and sorrow. Giving me the power to control my own fate.

This, this beautiful, under-appreciated thing is the product of my friends, my only friends, kissing my skin with their ever so sharp lips. So sweet yet so bitter, and always greedily awaiting more.

Redness pours down from the ceiling, and the room is filled with a metallic smell. As the ground disappears under my beautiful red masterpiece, I am free.

More free than the birds who own the sky, More free than the kings and queens, lords and ladies who run the world, I am free.

No one can push me back, no one can tell me what to do, because I am FREE. In that instant, as my soul leaks out of my body through the kisses on my skin, in that instant, I am beyond the hold and command of the universe, beyond the control of everything.

I am past the judging eyes and the accusing lips of those who surround me. I have passed into a realm through which no tongue can lash out at me.

When I am alone with my friends, listening to the scraping sound of their whispers in my ear, only then can I be at ease.

As the red finally stops flowing, as the masterpiece begins to heal, I am brought back. Back to this world of hatred and fear.

As the red disappears and my friends say goodnight, I cry. I cry of loneliness. I cry for the emptiness that fills me as my masterpiece fades into the oblivion I so desperately want to find.

And yet I go on. I tell my friends goodnight, and I put them away until the next time I need them to come out and play.

As I lie in wait for a morning that never comes, I yearn for their scarlet kisses to once again grace my skin with red.