Red Thoughts

December 26, 2017
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I feel red.  I become red.  My face
is red.  I’ve just left his
house. Not his home, his house.
A place with empty frames waiting
to be filled with mom and dad. A
house with candles that were burned
to the bottom and never
replaced. A house with white walls
that looked red.

He didn’t walk me to my car.  He
didn’t even walk me to his door.  The
sun had set and the moon took all
the comfort for himself, leaving
everyone else alone.

I ran to my car.  I
don’t remember anything
besides how hard it was
to open the door.

I drove and drove and drove, until
I remembered where to go.  I needed gum,
and the store was right there.  The sign
made the buzzing noise that means
“alive and working,” but feels like
“dead and deserted.”

Gum was at the front, so
I didn’t have to walk far.  I put
the pack on the counter and turned
my face.  The cover of the magazine
to my left was red.  Of course it
was red! It said “God is Dead,” but
that’s not true, because it
was written in the color of
someone who said they loved me
but didn’t even walk me to my car.






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