What is red? It could be defined as love; passion bonding stronger than blood. Kisses dipped in red, a sensation of warmth against the lips. A sacred form of addiction. This was red, loud and almost deafening—begging to be heard. Hot to touch because it’s so eager to burn.
Imagine what a fearsome color. The sound of glass, shattering after the door slams behind her. Your lover. The anger in her voice before she left the longing for her body in your broken heart. Your slowly beating heart. Grief left cuts one by one like seconds ticking on a clock. She was everything you had fantasized and now she was gone. Loss inhales you as if you were one of her cigarettes. The bud burning bright like red. The smoke rising hot like the hurt in your heart after she left. You let it keep going up, hoping that maybe she’ll see it like signal. But the only signal that red ever was meant stop.
All that remained were the memories. The ones you choked on at night, that’s why you have a glass of water at your bedside. To swallow down all that pain, like rubies stuck in your throat. Carving an unbearable ache into your insides, maybe that’s a punishment for your sins. Which are known to be the one-way tickets to hell, which is known to be red. Who knew that falling in love was parallel to falling into hell? It’s not like what you did was evil.
What you did was fatal. At least, fatal to your relationship. It was a rose, beautiful to watch but it always hurt to hold. Thorns threatened to grow out the moment you decided to betray her. Reckless affairs with reckless abandon were only ever a good idea because you loved danger. Maybe more than you loved her. Now the regret you feel is red.
You could have had a family, but you figured passion was a stronger bond than blood. The only birth she ever gave was a grudge, and that’s the only thing she’ll ever hold against you now. Anxiety bites at you with wrath like red, teeth dripping red, your ledger is filled with red. A blaring sign that all you have left are debts. Do you taste her poisoned femininity in your coffee cup? Is that what keeps you up? Is it still red? Because when death calls and you close your eyes for the last time, your reincarnation is waiting. And all that you will ever be is red.
First and foremost, I want to sincerely apologize to the readers for the lack of content on my part. My weekends have been extremely busy! Still, that is not a good enough excuse. I want to apologize to my co-writers as well, because they’ve been filling up the blog even though they have busy schedules as well! Thank you for your patience and I hope this short piece is good enough to satisfy the weeks I’ve missed! I promise I will have a full-fledged short story out soon.