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Controlled by Red
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when the pain becomes to much I see lines of Red.
They run and my mind screams to find more.
That Red is control,
A mixture of what I can and cannot do.
Red takes over me.
It makes me feel safe again.
The Red is beautiful.
It's an addiction that runs in my mind.
But, Red can leave a mark.
It can be gruesome and ugly.
Red manipulates me.
Tells me everything will be ok with one more mark.
But, Red lies.
It will never be alright again.
I will never be alright again.
Because one line of Red started a garden of scars.
