Red

Ever since I was a little kid, red has always been my favourite colour. Red was brilliant and bold. Red was mysterious and seductive. Red was playful and dangerous. Red was strong but beautiful. Red was everything I wanted to be. Now, red is simply the colour of my blood as it runs down my arm from the cuts on my wrists, and drips from the razorblade used to make those cuts. The razorblade that I held in my hand. I did this to myself. I ruined the colour red.