All she sees is red.
The walls are red.
The floor is red.
The ceiling. Her bed. The lights.
The sky. The sun. The moon.
Everything.
Red.
As she walks down the hall,
Her classmates, they are red.
When she looks in the mirror,
She, herself, is red.
Her arms. Her legs. Her breasts. Her stomach.
Red.
Her nails,
Coated in red.
Her mouth,
Painted red.
Her eyes,
Flash red.
Her anger,
Slashes red in her mind.
Their hateful words,
Slice deep red.
Their spiteful looks,
Splotched red.
Their taunting smiles,
Dripping red.
Her sadness,
Pulsing a weak red.
Her loneliness,
Gushes a strong red.
Her pain,
Pours a scarlet red.
It’s happening again.
And this time,
She can’t stop it.
She won’t stop it.
Everything.
Everything.
Red.
But then she looks down,
At her palm,
At what she holds.
The cold, silver blade,
Soon to be red.
About the Creator
Cassie Grace
I'm from Kentucky. I write stuff. I use inspiration from my personal life for most of my writing. I'm currently working on writing a book, but we'll see how that turns out. For now, enjoy some of my poems and random archived writings.
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