New Shades of Red

I hope you never learn why I hide scissors in my closet or how the word "family" still stings after all these years.

I find peace because you're not in my dreams—a valley plagued only by fears ever since I first murmured that one prayer. My soul to take.

While there's time for it, hold onto those rose-tinted lenses and imagine healing is easy. I'll handle the overthinking.

I hope you never understand the burn of unanswered confessions, when shame lingers in the air because your god fell asleep.

I feel alive for the first time since midwinter—a familiar bleakness I once embraced like a lovesick artist bleeding to create new shades of red. Give my heart.

While there’s time for it, build moments of joy and bliss. I’ll store those memories like rations for the monsoon of unloved truths that will accompany you when least expected.

I hope you never hear the secrets of lonely girls and lost boys who abandoned their voices and can say everything with silence.

I make promises to the future—a hopeful reminder that healing is more than payment for histories we cannot change. I am the master of my fate.

While there’s time for it, decide who you are and want to be, and I’ll help paint the likeness so you can see it clearly.

I'll ask for nothing in return.