I love red,
not in the way most do,
with roses or sunsets,
but in the way it bleeds—
bleeds from my soul.
I wear it on my skin
like a silent scream,
a language only I understand,
when the world becomes too...

Walk with me
as slow
as you can
for I want it
to last
as long
as it can.

Words, words, I play with words
hoping that some combination—
even a chance combination—
will say what I want.
What's left unsaid
will always find a way
to scream.