Red is the blood that rushed down her arm,
Red is the heart you promised to keep safe from harm.
Red is the lips from which you lied,
Red is her eyes when she cried.
Red is the bag you carried as you left,
Red is her hope, bereft.
Red is what you saw when you opened her door,
Red is her body, dead on the floor.
Red is the sky as the sun set,
Red is the color you try to forget.
Red is what hurts you to your very core,
Red is what reminds you, you should have done more.
YOU ARE READING
Almost a poet
PoetryI'm trying my luck at poetry so it'd be great to get some feedback. Keep in mind that these poems are strongly related to depression, anorexia, and things of that sort. If you are recovering, this story is not recommended for you.
