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.