Red,
That was the Color I first encountered in my Mom’s womb
Swirling shades of red
Similar to my thoughts in there, left unsaid
Soon the day had come
When I was labeled as my parents son
Growing up was it’s own concussion
My choices held many repercussions
Fell into the dark lanes of addiction
No one could pull me out, with or without conviction
One day, I saw red again
Was out with friends, vomited red in the rain
Lying on a stretcher is how I entered the hospital
Didn’t know I won’t need the same exit portal
Diagnosed with last stage of cancer
Too late to stop... what I used (imaginarily) to fight and conquer
With nausea always hitting me at worst
And death looming over my head with undying thirst
All I saw was my crying family and pitiful hung head of the doctor,
Empathically conveying why my cancer couldn’t be nurtured
Slowly fading images of my choices turning into regrets instead,
While leaving this world, all I could do is vomit
and die seeing red….
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