Crimson stained my cheeks
The same flush of pain from my heart-
Shattering. The colour of your arousal
Was all that met the eye.
The same hue as the big red flag you flew;
A glint of trepidation in your eyes?
The heart I gifted you returned with the receipt,
You swapped with one brand new.
That fiery passion that I always blew
Like a candle on a cake.
Blood on your hands of those Jews
You loved, that hateful flag you flew.
Aphrodite’s red flower tattered
The wine you spilt on my white linen sheets
When my virtue ceased and
Monroe kissed me.
Those nights you promised forever then left-
Me bruised and weak.
O the incessant bloodshed
What a memorable honeymoon it was for me.
The blazing heat of the sun
Burning like your cold gaze.
The sweetness of a cherry, oozing down my lips
And the pleasant scent of roses you gifted.
Forgetting to water them-
Their petals fell and stalks drooped.
Reminding me as to what it was like,
Loving you.
Do you remember?
When my heart would beat
Against your naked chest
Scavenging any crumbs of affection you left.
I remember;
You turning away, facing the wall that I wish
Was as sturdy as the one you tore down.
My now dead heart, under the debris.
You stopped loving me.
The warmth of your red grew bitter,
Colder than my blue,
Like a Bunsen burner’s flame.
Though perhaps that was a good thing,
For your red burn restricted my breath
And the voice that was in my head- silenced.
But now she can scream free.
I was your caged dove.
You left the door wide open.
But before I could fly away.
I fell.
Believing that it was my own ineptness,
That cursed my highs.
Blaming myself before I could fathom
That you clipped these wings.
It was a tease or perhaps a test-
For would the dog chase the bone,
I, his good obedient pet,
Even when the master says no?
I never had the chance to fly.
You stole a lot from me.
If I could do it all again maybe take
My sight so I don’t feel as foolish.
Though veins appear blue,
Once I bleed, red pleases my sight.
It only took a razor to stop-
The way you deceive my melancholy eyes.
Perhaps we did love.
Perhaps as hard as we hate.
You were my demon but I loved
Every sin you would make.
No.
Not now.
Not ever.
Not today.
I will not confess to my Rabi,
That I allowed you to stay.
Begone. Go. Good grief!
O my heart sunk but I turned my cheek.
Perhaps another lover
Was
Waiting for me,
His red, just as vibrant as your own.
But he is long gone,
Along with my hope.
Perhaps I deserve it for
Finally letting you go.
I despised my father for leaving in my youth.
But now my own spawn
Will know what it is like losing you.
Their daddy, their hero.
How can I live with myself?
Live with the daily reminder that
Red now felt blue.
I lost myself as well as you.
To my babies, the stars in my darkness.
Your mummy loves you.
The sun maybe beautiful but I beg the two,
Don’t be naïve, my little angels.
The moon, she holds just as much warm love,
In her blue.
Grace Christodoulou is a British sixth form student. She is an emerging writer, currently taking English Literature at A-level. This is a poem she wrote for her coursework which was inspired by Sylvia Plath and her poetry in Ariel.
Featured image by Shot by Cerqueira on Unsplash
