Red is blood

Red is roses

Red is fire

Red is Christmas

Red is death

Red is love

Red is me.

I have been through red.

My skinned knee on a summer day

My backyards roses

My state has had flames

My present wrapped

My grandpy and grandpa

My friends

My hair

But I won't let red define me.

And neither should you.

So stop cutting yourself

So stop pricking your finger

So stop letting the flames burn

So stop hating the holidays

So stop crying over someone you will se when you die

So stop obsessing over someone

So stop reading my writing if it hurts

So stop.

Red doesn't define me.

So stop letting it define you.