Dripping red onto pristine snow of hope
Droplets pulled away from the very heart of me
With a smile
Always a smile
As they fall
Every breath, every heartbeat pressing out yet another myriad
But never forming a river
Never making a waterfall
One by one – a crimson kaleidoscope
An ornament, a gift from the heart to the cold
Manifesting a pink slush – the colour of glass over our eyes
That we all wear
That we all have worn
Dying the world red and our souls redder
Violets aren’t blue
And love isn’t red
Yet I bleed and call it the colour of love
Until I am white
White as a ghost resting on a bed of pink snow
prompt by @theconstantpoet on instagram
As I Read And Write 