Millions [Poetry]

distress, on an incarnadine spectrum

distress, on an incarnadine spectrum

may8twenty18

red with too much blood of yesterday, piercing blades sticking through a heart and limping through another day. red with desire, and with the screams used to drown out the silence, which in turn, also have to be drowned out.

pink with anxiety, rosy hopes and even rosier expectations. pink for the daydreams, and for the softer tears that sometimes verge onto earthquakes.

red and numb, reckless and dumb. red for the failure of love, red for the cut cords that have seared hearts to no end. red with holes, red with pain, red with every night spent crying oneself to sleep or hiding sadness in the pipes.

pink with wishes, left polished but weak. so many tears concealed by appearances, so much raw pain. it doesn't get better; you just get better at hiding it.

poked frenzy. hot tears. pain with every passing day and still an attempt to be greatness. nightmarish dreams paint this reality to be the one I must wake up from, in your arms.