Red

I am red.
I am fire and scorch,
the smoldering hot stare
that turns stones into ashes.

it took me a long time to find it.
it took doubt and wrong turns,
centuries of trial and error,
of scraped knees and bruised ego.
so no.
your double edged questions
are not welcome.

I am red.
I am love and warmth,
the steady arm that holds you up
when your knees are trembling.

I used to fear it.
like one fears death or blindness
like you would fear the dark
or the unknown;
a clown: evil blood lips
and sad pasty white face,
as if they don't belong together.
then it suddenly made sense.

red is simple like that:
it grows on you...
or rather you grow into it.

shared purple

do you think she's got courage?
I know that it might not seem like it
if you're looking through the same old dusty lens
that limited so many others.

oh, but she does.
to lay herself on paper like that
all in, no take backs
almost naked...
but for the fragile purple dreams covering her soul.

it takes guts
and half an ounce of madness
to dissect your inner world
and neatly display it for public viewing.

and you...
yes you, the purple dream keeper.
you rock!

lacquered smile

we are all mask traders
elegantly gliding in between
up to the point we can't tell them apart:
lie and reality
warping into one collective hallucination.

who do we think we're fooling
when we change one mask for another
thinking no one will see the cracks,
the pain, the exhaustion
behind the lacquered smile?

i'd call bullshit
but my new mask isn't broken in yet,
it's still a bit rigid round the edges of my thoughts
so i can't quite enunciate the words right.
every time i try it comes out as
"that's nice"(insert smile *here*)
when what I actually meant was
"I DON'T CARE. period"