Work Text:
A non-comprehensive list of things that are red:
Your blushing cheeks when we first met.
Red roses that I gave you. You doted over them.
A kiss with red lipstick. Yours was lip-gloss, pale and colorless. Much like yourself, really.
An apple for the teacher which you gave to me, failing to see the irony.
Red leaves of the trees in fall when we would walk together to school, you clutching my hand like a lifeline.
A red string tied around your finger, to remind you to never forget about me.
A red that means stop, warning signs you could have seen but didn’t.
Shoveling red cake down your throat until you were choking on it.
Red scars up and down your arms, at my gentle encouragement.
Red bricks boxing you in. I imagine it felt claustrophobic.
Then red blood, dripping from your fingernails, which you’d torn up trying to save yourself.
Not pictured: My red ribbon wrapped tenderly around your throat.