Better dead than

The Color of Red.

Drifting effortlessly, I hum- smiling as I look around the room....

I see everything so acutely, aware of my out of body experience,

I hear your breathing, I feel your blood pulsating through your veins.

I smell your fragrance mixed with some floral bouquet,

And my senses speak to me in words from an ancient, foreign land-

Then I see Red.

Amazed, I touch the thick, dark liquid that flows from my body,

And it pools like Mercury.

Fascinated; yet confused, my movements are languid,

I'm dying.

And I don't even care- I welcome it, actually.

I wonder what you're feeling?

Watching you scurry about the room, doing chores? Cleaning?

You have an intent purpose about you,

Methodic... Primal.

Words muttered, but not understood,

Laughter?

And as you leave the room, leave me dying on the cold tile floor-

My last thought-

the look, as our eyes meet for the last time,

You thought you'd got it all...

And my eyes lose focus, then back again,

Untouched, returning the gleam in my eye-

I notice the bullet casing atop the drying pool of blood, and the bloody fingerprints smudged on the wall, one perfectly preserved...

And I smile. 'Gotcha!'


-Montana ✍️😎