Red was not love,
red was not passion,
or dancing.
Red was the colour of his veins,
as he pulsed with rage,
the colour of his eyes,
as I knew I was done for.
I honestly loved him,
until I saw red.
YOU ARE READING
red [completed]
Short Storyshe thought she was in love, until she saw red. book two in the colours series, may be read out of order themes of abuse, no details other then objects thrown.