Crimson Red - Blog Posts

Temporary

I have been meeting people since long, I have seen temporary people, I have been with few. They are sometimes the most amazing people you will ever meet.

I met a person, temporary or not, I didn't knew if they will be here with me forever or not, we met, we talked, we went out a few times, and it was all amazing, felt like life couldn't get any better. We were eyesore to everyone around us, I wrote in my diary for them

"I have been living life in this dark abyss, the black and white world, they have brought back the colours of life to me, it all feels beautiful"

They went away, I was drowned in colours, all the colours they gave me. all the red, green, blue.

It should have been end of it all.

their return brought back all the colours, it was all rainbows and butterflies, it was as if I was a little kid who has been handed the crayons for the first time, excited, bubbly and ready to paint the world in their colours.

but sometimes, temporary people should remain temporary, they are meant to be.

maybe the temporary people shouldn't be given too much information about your life, that's the reason they are not permanent, right? because they are non-judgemental as long as they don't know about you.

Once you start making a temporary person a permanent one in your life, that is the moment you are destined to ruin your own feelings and respect for that person. such kind of people are meant to know very little about you, just meet them, have non-judgemental fun with them and move on. holding onto them will ruin your own mental being.

the return of that person in my life, was a pleasant surprise, but all the colours slowly blended into each other, creating a thick, viscous shade of crimson red. it was blood, my blood, the blood of my feelings. the slow, viscous decline of my sanity blending into some bit my self-destructing nature, triggering it all. just like a juicer cutting down all the pieces of fruits into a gooey mess, slowly turning the fruit into a thick paste of nothingness, just pure insides of the fruit.

for all I know, I was husk of a person remaining, all of my insides have been chopped up into the pieces, the pieces of my being, the pieces of my existence, broken, broken, broken down, mixed, churned, gulped and eaten alive.

the fruits which stay put tend to rot faster, they get replaced with new fruit. young and fresh. the one fear I hold came true to me, again.

I wrote for them again in my diary:

"all the colours which came back, were nothing but shades of red"

(Image taken from Pinterest)

~ Necromancer

"Tea Party"

'I wish you were a girl'

Is what his mother said

'Put a gun to your head'

That's what he thought she said

'Put on the dress'

His reflection screamed

He picked up a gun instead

Eyes red

Tears bled

A bullet in his head

'Why didn't you love me?'

That's what his note read

"Tea Party, pt. 2"

'Why did you come here?'

Her question rang

As cold as the snow

On their son's grave

He didn't answer

He just blankly stared

At the name

They had to engrave

Then without even a word

The gun was in his hand

'I love you'

He whispered

'You will never be alone again'

The words danced

From his lips

With an elegant twist

Before he kissed the stone

He lifted the gun to his head

But shot his wife instead

Painting the snow a crimson red

Then without a second thought

All he saw was black