Crimson

 This crimson flower that flows in my veins. So beautiful, so warm and delicious. From my skin it flows so freely, as free as I wish my spirit could be. Freedom, the wings that the pain and blood give me. I soar above all. My freedom, my crimson freedom. The smell, it makes me close my eyes and dream of a better place, where scars are beautiful and this freedom lurks in every pair of eyes. Where everyone knows true pain and suffering,and so they give in to the ecstasy of their own crimson freedom. The flow of their life, the key to true freedom, the wings of their flight. My wings are stained with this beautiful hearts blood. Will you fly with me?