Red is blood.
Until red is cherries.
Tart in a sweet way.
Until it’s love they want so desperately,
their hearts beating to the bass,
Looking with grace.
Until it’s lipstick.
Powerful.
Beautiful.
Eye-catching.
The kind of red people stop and notice
without knowing why.
The kind of red that makes you stand a little taller,
speak a little clearer,
feel a little more seen.
Funny how red changes
depending on who’s wearing it.
On lips, it’s confidence.
On a dress, it’s bold.
On a heart, it’s life.
We’ve all loved something red.
Wanted something red.
Felt our pulse pick up because of it.
So maybe red was never the problem.
Maybe red was always the proof.
Proof of feeling.
Proof of wanting.
Proof of being human.
Red isn’t something to fear.
It’s something to recognize.
Because when you really think about it—
red has always meant
alive.