I always knew I was the color red.
\nMaroon, flesh turned flame,
\nblood ignited.
\nI saw candle wicks on your fingertips,
\nand they graced my shell, arousing an inferno.
\nThe soot stained your clothes.
\nBut in crimson there is always pleasure with the pain.
\nFiery, passion, angry, urgent.
\nThere is no pride here, no pride in vermilion.
\nI always knew I was the color red.
\nMangled, violated.
\nRed.
\nI was made to be inhaled.
\nDeep and steady.
\nToo slow, russet red.
\nToo quick, battery acid red.
\nTequila red.
\nBurning red.
\nI always wanted to be purple or blue or green,
\nbut my soul was red.
\nThick like blood.
\nTough like skin.
\nRough like love.
\nGradually, intently, unconditionally.
\nRed.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
Nicole Meza I always knew I was the color red. Maroon, flesh turned flame, blood ignited. I saw candle wicks on your fingertips, and they graced my shell, arousing an inferno. The soot stained your clothes. But in crimson there is always pleasure with the pain. Fiery, passion, angry, urgent. There is no pride here,… <\/p>\n