This Red
And so I went to the water,
To wash my wounds,
To cool my burns,
To calm my storms,
Yet still — I bled red.
And so I went to the water,
To dive for clarity,
To search for dignity,
To drown my fragility,
Yet still — I bled red.
And so I went to the water,
To find my innocence,
To forgive my insolence,
To cleanse my conscience,
Yet still — I bled red.
And so I went to the water,
And dwelled in pain,
To mend what love had broken,
To sew what had been torn,
To patch what life had scorned,
And yet — I still bled red.
This red won’t let me go.
This red has stayed.
For it is always the wounded
Who bleed—
Never the ones
Who carry the blade
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