Red

Red lips that are not so red.

You smile

with mock sincerity etched upon your face.

You’re laughing at me.

I’d hear whispers late at night, of how

you rip peoples’ hearts out

and leave them to fester in the open air,

blood spilling out,

dying red to black,

sticking, causing a permanent wound,

just like the one you left on me.

Red lips that are not so red.

You pout,

creating the unfair urge to protect, yet

you’re cutting into me.

I’d watch you paint, never sleeping,

creating false visions

and twisted pictures of reality,

paint smeared across the canvas,

staining white with red,

mixing a permanent brand,

just like the one you left on me.

Red lips that are not so red.

You frown

with distain marked upon your brow.

You’re looking down on me.

I’d listen to you criticize and mock

my every move and reaction to you,

launching a frontal attack with words,

piercing deep within my cells,

clouding back a layer of rage,

just like the one you left on me.

Red lips that are not so red.

You laugh,

knowing my limitations and boundaries.

You’re playing with me.

I’d hear your voice with taunting tones,

drawing me in circles,

wearing me down because you know

I can’t resist you,

dark red on skin, you lips on mine,

a branding of ownership by lipstick,

just like the one you left on…

him.

Red lips that are not so red,

sealed tightly against what

I want to hear.

bleeding

you're bleeding from an open wound
as the fluids slowly mix and grind
with the dirt and charcoal gravel that coats the ground
just like a lover's blanket
as you lay there, sprawled across the cement
arms open to the sky waiting
to drink the rain like medicine and watching
the soft candy of the clouds crawl
across the sky and slowly dissolve
beneath the crimson velvet tongue of the sun
as it plunges back into
the caverns of its mouth while swallowing the ground whole

you're bleeding as the skin peels back
showing the red dyes of passion
oozing down your legs and covering
the marred bruises of a forced love
that are springing from your broken flesh as your heart
beats against your broken ribs erratically
playing the memory of falling hard
and landing backwards on the rough surface
of the ground over and over again
creating an unwanted death bed
as you lie there, hands open to receive the grave
awaiting you

you're bleeding from an open scar
ripped right across your chest
as the soft thumping of your cells
entangle themselves within the heart
and try to squeeze the remaining feelings
that are floating on the surface of the blood
in their coagulated pools of regret
as it cools and pales
slowly draining from the soft petals
of your cheeks in bloom
with the soft scarlet of betrayal

you're bleeding as the flesh is ripped
apart and shredded with
the desperation of a mad lover
seeking his revenge for what he thinks is right
and worth acting on
measured by the wrong values of broken pain
being gently soothed by the smells and taste
of the sunset pooling against your skin
as those silver tears go gliding down
the bloody matter of your face
in all its agonized glory
under the pressure of abuse

you're bleeding from an open wound
as you lay there waiting
to die
while the sun explodes above you
and all the colours begin to run together