Sleepless drunken nights bring this:

This is a statement.

Red.

The budding of cherry (innocence)
the heat of fire (intensity)
The blush of embarrassment (completely exposed)
The crimson of blood (life itself)
The glow of a stop light (patiently waiting)
The ripe of an apple (recommended, but forbidden)
The warmth of love (selflessness)
The siren of a fire engine (alerting of presence)
The burning of anger (unbridled)
The gleam of rubies (elegance)

Red is so....
So obvious (seen in nature, but never unnoticed)
So intense (abrasive, but still comforting)
So daring (there is nothing left to lose)
So impetuous (passionate and impulsive)
So contradictory (a symbol for each extreme)

Red is it's own hue.
The start of a rainbow,
The sign to stop,
A primary color.
Color is essence.
Red is color.
Red is me.

And you still aren't getting it.
Red is my resuscitation,
My reincarnation,
My reminder.

Does this shock you?
Then, it must be long over-due.


I was never meant to blend in,
I was meant to be noticed:
The red rose in a garden of violets,
The glowing embers in the middle of the night,

These have always been present,
But often overlooked.
The seasons are changing.

Now that I've begun to bloom again,
I refuse to be cut off (without first spilling some blood)

I'm cultivating my red
I will nourish and embrace it.
I will let it flow freely through me.
I will protect it with my life.
Because it is my life.
I will not deny it the light it deserves.
I will cherish the blossom.

My dreams are to be achieved
My causes are to be supported
My opinions are to be voiced
My impulses are to be acted upon
My voice is to be heard
My life is to be lived.

I am empowered.
I am reminded.
I am back.

I know winter will come again.
The fruit and flower will fall,
The embers will turn to ash,
And the color, in time, will fade.
But I promise myself--
I promise you.
But I promise myself
That I will not forget.
I can see,
If only as a memory,
The intense color I once was.
And that I will someday be again.

Just because the color leaves
And everything changes shape,
The essence remains,
And I will not silence it again.

Next spring will not be a shock.
Because, this time,
I will let my origins show.
The force that runs through me.
And, I won't try to hide it again.
Because, how can i?
Hide, I mean.
Hide..
Me?