RED - Thoughts Spilling

As I sat there, so melancholy at my writing desk, my hand all of its own grasped a single red crayon and began to scrawl across the paper. I could feel every subtle rippling as it ran its smooth point over the blood-staining white. Flecks of dust below the surface of the paper became deeper red snow set upon lines of scarlet water. A small curving ribbon of crayon ran astray and fell into a groove in the table, began to colour it too that hated red. Began to fill every wooden wrinkle set across what once must have been a mighty oak standing tall in green. Now red. All red. And the crayon colour spilled so sensuously off my table, pooling in the fibers of my white carpet. Now red. All red. And it kept spreading, this pool deepening around my ankles. All the while my hand continued its lattice work upon that page, and an image first abstruse began to grow from nothing. The red was filling my world. It grew up around my waist and my legs once cream now red all red and it wasn’t a cold red, it was a lust red, it was a rage red, and it was eating my flesh and it was climbing up my chest. And the red of that crayon colour was digging into the small red of my heart and it became one red and then grasped my neck and still my hand was scrawling its suicide serenade and the image on the page was becoming a reality. And as it poured from my eyes the red became my tears and as it filled my mind the red became all my thoughts. And I dissolved in the red, and I who once was human now was red. All red. And my hand was somehow still moving through the deep to finish its image. All that existed now were the spreading lines, my curiosity, and red. A stabbing feeling exploded in my consciousness as, although my eyes were long since gone, the lines joined and sang their image loud. In that red consumption in that red cacophony in that red melodrama anger ire fleeing despair in that red that sour red that bitter red I found what my hand and that red were so ready to bring to life… it was you. Poured from my soul it was your likeness. But I have nothing more to give since I am red and you are red but we are not.