vials of red.

broken
(b-r-o-k-e-n)

down
(d-o-w-n)

motor
(m-o-t-o-r)

she scribbles these words into her
feathery light skin,
peels it off,
(she doesn't feel a thing)
threads it through a bottle,
and launches it into the sea,
(a stained mess of emotions)
letting it go.

---

wishes bounce her weightless,
the infra-red scope of pointlessness.
she brings up a vial of red,
(red, so red)
swirls it round and round,
and pours.
(into her body lacking of colour)

filled with red, she starts off her run,
(keep going. gogogo)
watching the white of her skin,
glow lightly underneath.
her feet pound the pavement,
(thudthudthud)
as she loses her red through her pores.

tired of impossibility, tears,
(and red)
she tears her fading red-coloured strings out,
pulling all the shades out of her from underneath.
"is this what you want? my bones are out of red.
my pupils are dilated from lack of red. all you want
is the redredred in me. i'm not red. i'm anything but.
and if you still want this thing, come and get it."
and she sets off running again.
(as the vials come tumbling down.)