Red.

She entered her dark room
And lit the candle that lay on the dresser
Shadows instantly took form,
Casting themselves in eerie figures
Against the walls and the floor.
The din of the storm outside
Was cacophonous along with
The voices echoing in her mind.
“Love yourself in your entirety.
Cherish yourself.
Love your every nerve and sinew.
Know yourself.”, they resounded.

Standing in front of the mirror,
She looked at herself and smiled.
They told her to love herself
And love herself she would.

She stroked her hair,
Loving each meander
As it fell to her collarbones.
She spoke terms of endearment
As she slowly bit her lips,
Penetrating them with her teeth
Until a drop of blood oozed out.
She licked it off before
It stained her hardwood floor,
Smacking her lips at the taste-
Oddly metallic, like copper pennies
Mixed with sangria.
She’d learned to love her speech
And the taste of her life.

Her hand lovingly caressed
Down the sides of her body,
As the other traced each contour,
Parting her skin with a blade.
She watched as her essence,
Her very liquid composition,
Slowly flowed, a river of red.
She gazed at this river,
As the red and the yellow waltzed,
The blood seemingly changing hues-
As the yellow light mingled
And bounced off its surface-
Just as she often seemed
To be changing her color
Although she never changed at all.
She learned to love herself
And every inch of her body,
For she fell in love with its liquidity.

The odour, fragrance rather,
From the liquid, pooled at her feet,
Was now intoxicating.
She took a deep breath,
Now overpowered by the smell,
Similar to raw iron and earth.
She stumbled, weak and overwhelmed,
And fell to her knees.
Now covered in her own blood,
She snickered.
She was in love with her smell,
And every cell she consisted of.

A shiver went down her spine,
As the lightning tore the sky apart.
She pulled herself up
With the dresser’s support,
Accidentally grabbing onto the candle
And extinguishing the flame
While attempting to do so.
Her only source of light was the moon,
Peeking through the clouds,
And the occasional spark of lightning.
The voices had subsided,
The ferocious melodies of the rain
Were the only sound that remained,
Accompanied by her smug laugh.

She knew herself now,
Like nobody did,
She loved herself now,
Like nobody could.
But she was not satisfied.
No, she had come too far
To leave things incomplete.

A bloody hand cupped her bosom,
As the other curled the blade
Precisely around the curves
Of her left breast.
She cackled,
She was going to see this heart
That everyone told her of,
Which was claimed to be
So pure and beautiful,
But so, so painfully damaged.

They told her to know herself,
And to love what she knew.
So she loved herself as completely
And as best as she could,
For she was never satisfied
With merely loving her reflection
And she was not one
To do a job superficially.

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3 thoughts on “Red.

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