Blood Red, Upside Down Pain as red as blood, who has belittled you that you drop so pale as if dried up by rejection and spotted by the onset of youth forlorn maturing with no peace? Where is the luster of youth days? Little girl grieving in pain, as if aged before fully grown? Laughter in winds, no experience but darkness. Alas! When did scarlet become magnificent hues of door shut and emptied hollow dancing in rain of blissful tears...red then turned to bright pretty pink? No longer paled by hurt and shattered by wounds of dreadful tales. Is it the same you, as you were? The darkness no longer shed the blood of fear, suffering and regret. No longer care for what they think or for what they say. Pretty pink of mind, heart pink and bright with delight sprinkled with soft wonder and tender petals. Bold tickled pink rose without thorns, no longer afraid. Exuberance today looking through panes of bright hope and not through windows of dark red pain...no longer. She rises as wet and velvety and unyielding as tower splendid and washed clean overlooking mountains, everglades and vast beauty, stepping out potent pink lips kissing sun and moon with confidence, poised, grace-filled with love, light and life. Pink feet that flutters and dances, pink hands that glides and opens as Giver. Watch her turn the red upside down, like the world she is destined to turn from dark red to bright beautiful pink...watch and you'll see magnificence bloom from red to pink with magic...
COLOR
Blood Red, Upside
Pain as red as blood, who has belittled you that you drop so pale as if dried up by rejection and spotted by the onset of youth forlorn maturing with no peace?
Where is the luster of youth days? Little girl grieving in pain, as if aged before fully grown? Laughter in winds, no experience but darkness. Alas! When did scarlet become magnificent hues of door shut and emptied hollow dancing in rain of blissful tears...red then turned to bright pretty pink? No longer paled by hurt and shattered by wounds of dreadful tales. Is it the same you, as you were?
The darkness no longer shed the blood of fear, suffering and regret. No longer care for what they think or for what they say. Pretty pink of mind, heart pink and bright with delight sprinkled with soft wonder and tender petals. Bold tickled pink rose without thorns, no longer afraid. Exuberance today looking through panes of bright hope and not through windows of dark red pain...no longer.
She rises as wet and velvety and unyielding as tower splendid and washed clean overlooking mountains, everglades and vast beauty, stepping out potent pink lips kissing sun and moon with confidence, poised, grace-filled with love, light and life. Pink feet that flutters and dances, pink hands that glides and opens as Giver. Watch her turn the red upside down, like the world she is destined to turn from dark red to bright beautiful pink...watch and you'll see magnificence bloom from red to pink with magic...
About the Creator
Edith Flowers
Start ✍..
Keep reading
More stories from writers in Poets and other communities.
Where there's Art there's Heart
Here's a stupid thing: I adore art, but I start to panic whenever I step into a gallery. In the one place I should be at my contented best - surrounded by walls teeming with creative expression - I fall apart. What ought to be an enriching experience, tacitly designed to facilitate the exploration of human empathy and perspective, is for me an overwhelming purgatory of anxiety that compresses me to the point I cannot breathe. At the same time, I experience a sense of extraction, as though my head is being prized open to create a hole so big my sanity could evaporate. Somewhere between these two opposing forces of vice and vortex, I feel myself dissolving in a stream of panic that makes me want to cry; and I feel so daft feeling this way, that all I want to do is run for the hills.
By Caroline Jane3 days ago in Humans
Comments
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.