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Rubi Jan 2021
Red signs
Red flags
Red doors and red cars lined up
Red hair, that's barely red
A red mug of cold tea
Red and black pants
Of a boy who never speaks
Red streaks in her hair
And red lines on his wrist
Red bricks
Of the buildings on market street
As to not catch fire as easily.
Red like a furnace, a fireplace, like glowing embers
Like stop signs and fire trucks

Fire alarms
And blood
That I imagine pooling from my arm
Onto everything
One continuous wave of red
Swallowing everything
Covering my clothes, my skin
The floor, the table, my hands
A stream of scarlet flowing from my nose,
A sharp pain growing from the spot I was hit
With a red gatorball
In gym class
Three years ago

You with your red eyes and
****** noses
that powder and those colds
red nails you trailed across my skin
blood beading up under a needle
you stuck in me
a piercing pain
a throbbing pain
growing from the rubbed raw spot on my skin
where you touch me too many times

I have all but forgotten you
with your shifting eyes
and silver tongue
telling a million lies
attempting to find a truth.

— The End —