Seeing Red

You notice me when you prick your finger.
You feel me in the passion.
I clock your mind in a fiery haze and take away your judgment.
I burn bright in forest fires.
I am the outside of a pepper,
I am the car speeding by going 90 in a 45 zone.
I am the opposite of timid,
I am the fire in your soul.
Blue and I are enemies always competing,
He is the arteries and I am the veins.
I am the lava he is the hurricane.
I am the sunrise that starts a new day.
I am red, who longs to be anything than what I am.
I cannot change the feeling that arises in people when the see me when I am truly unveiled.

I long to be the green that shows signs of life instead of the red that shows death and pain.
I want to be the trees that billow in the wind aimless and free

I wish to be brown,
like the soil in the ground; saturated with water that makes it rich,
instead of the fire that incinerates any signs of life and oxygen causing it to burn brighter.

I want to be yellow,
like the bright burning sun.
I want to be the petals of a soft, silky sunflower and the fur of a bubbly, buzzing bumble bee.
I want to be yellow.

I wish to be silver, cold to touch.
The silver bells that twinkle as the wind stroke them,
Causing them to giggle and sing their musical tune.
I wish to be loved.

Most of all I pray to be blue.
The opposite of what I am.
I want to get along with the other colors easily.
I want to sooth and calm instead of anger.
I want to be accepted and cradled.
I want to wash over you with comfort.
I pray to be blue.

But alas I am red and you will only see red.