Chaffed on your jacket.
There's a streak there
Just a small stain
Miniscule enough that not one notices.

Here's the thing
About the streak, though.
It holds a knife.

And in the kitchen
With the kettle hissing curses
And the light draining from her eyes
Is a whole other desperation.
One with bright colors.
The primary ones.

Triangles are the strongest shape
But to them, collapsing is the beginning.

Your family is red.
Just red.
You used to see yellow
And she used to see blue
(Too much of it
Until she hissed & burst
Into boiling steam)
Now it's just red.

Red like the blood in the water.
Red since the last time you saw her.
Red from the balcony window
Red from the bed, small stain though.

Red in the knife it holds
Red on the scars you bold
Red like ink on the paper
Red in fate screaming save her.

Red today
Red someday
Red to chase pain away
Red to sleep where you lay

Red said, voice heavy as lead,
"Beg for me. For softer violence."
And with your white streak and soon broken silence
You kneel, feeling steel eels in your meal
Erasing appetite. Predator in the grass
Mind fractured and splintered glass.

Red in the shards...
Red, sings the bard
Red, dawn at night,
Red and only red in sight.

Reread the book that you read once
Brandish the cup of mead, a dunce
Prances broken in the bedsheets thus
Dancing a swing that only he must.

The other escaped into the night one day,
His brother had followed him into the fray.
They'd brunt together
Chests waxed and heads severed
Their sister in tatters
Standing by those that matter.
Her mother. Her youngest brother
Both about to break each other.

All they see
Is red.