The numbers are red
Like passion
Like lust
Like flesh inflamed with desire
The numbers are red
Like hatred
Like grief
Like a molten spear piercing my chest
The numbers are red
Like Rage
Like a divine missive
Whose scarlet words mandate what I must be
When they command it
I'm a god
A ruby
A rose
A bloom of endless power and brightness and bounty
A rising violet light who heralds the dawn
And when they command it
I'm a waste
A garnet
A rotted cherry
A used-up piece of gum abandoned to a dingy bus seat
A pool of fuchsia vomit; an odor of decay
The numbers are red
Like war
Like vengeance
Like indignity
Like me
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3 comments:
Intriguing. I prefer stanzas 1 and 4 over the others. The positive ones. But you are right about the rest, too.
Peace <3
Jay
The numbers? An interesting concept/metaphor for control. If such a control exists.
It's all about perspective. Which view do you choose to take?
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