The Color of His Pain

His reflection dances within the rim of her crystal clear bottle,

one of which once contained a liquid of coppery red.

Though all that is left of the blood colored substance,

is the slight pink tint that sticks to her lips.

He knows it helps her to swim away from all of the constant pain,

that gives him aches.

She just wants to take it all away,

all of their pain.

For it is in her nature,

she is a keyholder of pain,

the only one who can keep it tame.

Year by year their child grew,

and eventually the woman's pain began to fade.

Or that's at least what she thought,

as she drowned herself in oceans,

all filled with her devotion to the same sticky,

red,

coppery,

substance.

It once felt so holy,

for the liquid is her religious keepsake,

and that makes it all okay.

The woman now knows no pain,

she only knows

red,

red,

red.

Now her baby girl screams at the top of her lungs,

crying to a boy,

she's fallen in love.

And she's screaming the words that her mother once said,

"Let me take it all away!

All of the pain!

I am the keyholder!

He, he will be safe!"

But still he fades,

right down the drain.

As he tries to take away all of her pain,

all the while stealing the final game.

I watch him go right down that drain,

as my mind and heart break.

Yet it only sends him further,

and further,

away.

I succeeded,

I stole his pain.

And now I writhe,

And I ache.

Trapped inside the blood colored cage,

that has finally taken shape of a glass bottle.

The one who used to hold my fathers face,

has drowned me in her red,

red,

cage.

But it's okay,

I took away his pain.