Red

When her hands feel like writing again,

But there is just too much to say.

When no stroke of a pen 

Could ever compare 

To what the body feels. 

Words fall silent,

Drowning in laughter,

A cute smile, and a giggle. 

What she longs for goes unnoticed, 

For she is not the girl in the pictures.

No Romeo and Juliet.

No fairytale Prince Charming. 

Everything she envisioned 

Tucked neatly inside of a paper box, 

Adorned with a pretty bow, 

Her name misspelled 

And red never her favorite color.-