My favourite colour used to be Red
I though Red was beautiful.
You showed me Red was not what I thought.
Hiding underneath love lays the blood of all the people love killed.
On the edge of passion lurks the green monster of jealousy, claws coated in a thin layer of gore.
"I did not mean it"
He says with fire in his eyes
"I saw red"
He explains as he licks the Red off his fingers.
One.
By.
One.
I though Red was your hand holding mine but your grip is too tight and your teeth gritting together in anger show me that Red is the colour of rage.
I want to escape and hide under a rainbow until the storm passes
But you are an erupting volcano
Propelling ashes in the blue sky to obstruct any hope.
You are wrath, bubbling and slowly licking the Earth with your evil tongue, destroying everything that stands in your way.
Red is a war.
And I am stuck in the crossfire.