The Madness of Love

Red Was the Color

RED



The roses he brought were the color red.
They were soft as babies, perfumed by love.
But not as sweet as the words he said,
When he called me “dear” and his “turtle dove.”

Red were the sheets where our hearts entwined
Those countless nights when the moon peeked in
And saw our kisses and that passion divine,
Then, even the moon arched a wider grin.

But cheeks turned red when HE laughed at my work;
My stomach knotted, and my teeth grew clenched.
His face filled up with loathesome smirks,
And with each snicker, I newly flinched.

Oh, why had I ever let down my guard,
Believing him more than he'd first seemed?
My face turned red when he slapped it hard,
And his anger shriveled even my screams.

My eyes were red the day he walked away,
Yet tears still rained when he didn't come back.
My heart lost faith when he left me that day,
And the storm inside me became solid black.

I grew unfeeling as I fortified my heart.
I wrapped it in felt and covered it in chains.
Putting on armor I figured was smart.
For thus I'd learned, red’s the color of pain.