Red

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Red, the color of my pain, the burning ache in my chest.

The color that was the first to consume me, red with anger, and hatred.

Red like the marks on my wrists, the color of my bloodshot eyes.

Such a vibrant red, the type that clouds my eyes and judgement, the scarlett hue that lit every fiber of my being.

The red of the blood pumping in my veins, to my head and ears, blocking out all other sounds but the rapid beating of my own heart.

I don't like this red, the color that destroyed me. But yet, when you wear it in the color of your sweater, the cherry of your lips splitting into that priceless, beautiful smile, its ok.

I'm ok.

If only for a moment.

But sadly, moments like these don't last.

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