Dichotomy and Crimson

I tried to go the easy route.

I tried to lie

and twist my words,

but they soured on my tongue.

I tried to use the world

as my entertainment,

rather than my muse;

the humbling shock of failure.

 

I tried to paint you

the perfect picture,

with all of my blacks and whites.

Blending into shades of grey

and darkening shadow

and light,

illuminating planes.

 

No color to the Sun,

but bright,

no color to the leaves,

but scintillating angles.

No hue in the eye,

but depth

and total understanding

of the limitations

with which we are so equipped.

 

But the lips;

I could not leave them unadorned.

So I opened up my vein

and bled the only true color

onto my pallet,

then onto the floor.

 

I could never lie

and spread the falsehoods

of the world.

My eyes only reflected

the dichotomy of living;

light and dark

and their deadly interplay,

but always,

with you,

there was a slash of red.

 

Lips,

rage,

sex.

Blood,

the only decoration

worthy of you.

Honest

and undebatable.

One final stroke

and I will never lie.

I sit,

my soul running out.

 

I left it all for you,

for I was never one

to take the easy road.

Light and dark intertwine,

fading into the void,

but even in the void;

a light.

 

Love is red,

no one ever argues that,

so if this world is this,

blissless, monochrome,

we can still bleed,

until we’re enveloped in light.

 

HG – 2018