sharp

I promised.

It was a one time thing and I mean to keep it.

I do.

But the colours, they're
making it hard, they
are.

After the flash of light
on steel,
there's the first give way pink, the slightest
blush
but that lasts only
for an eye blink,
a flutter really,

before there's a
watermelon red,
a prelude
to the
real one.

That's the one that
makes your stare
of morbid curious
as it brims
over just like a
cup under
an open tap
except the tap is under,
inside.

It, finally,
gives away to a pink, so much unlike the first.
This one, it's
aggressive, this
is the one
who makes it
hurt.
It has layers,
darker as you
go inwards till pink is at the edge
of pink ( and not as harmless as you would think).

Then come the browns
all over, all
meshed.
Hard, ungiving.
Almost scolding.
Till they, too
fall off,
making you wish
for
the colours
again.

but I promised,
so instead,
I'm using black
on white as comfort,
not
inviting red.