I find it refreshing to watch the peers of my youth as we age. Without a cue or even a clue many of us seemingly lighten up as the years go by, becoming more and more gentle with ourselves and others. Where once was petty drama you'll now find a deep level of reverence for something greater than ourselves. Now cognizant of the fragility of our existence on this plain, we speak of energy, positivity and finding one's center. We are in love with the idea of bettering the world around us.

red.

Red is the color of a Friday afternoon.. Heart racing, sweaty palms, laughing with excitement. Red was the color of the curtains.. That draped my childhood eatery. Red was the hair of my favorite queen passed. Red is the hair of my favorite queen living. Red were my eyes when I cried myself to sleep.. My burning heart smoldered as it broke from all the pain. My tear stained anger spat words painted red. The stain on my rug red from all the wine. Red were the strawberries on our warm summer dates. Red was the door you slammed in my face. Red is the hell you left me to live in. So red was the blood that I spilled from your neck.