The Red Poem by Carol Nthenya

I will love you most when you least deserve it - I will try.
For I will tell myself that maybe, just maybe, that's when you need my loving the most - when I see The Red...
So I will try.
Until the pieces of the mosaic that forms my whole start to loosen and fall off, piece after piece.
Until the walls that hold despair at bay start to break down and crumble, brick after brick.
Until the shadows that crouch in the dark corners of my being finally take shape and step blindly into the light.
Until the soles of my feet are torn and bloodied from dancing to the oscillating tempo of your bitter-sweet word-song, and I fall in a heap to the ground.
Until my mind cracks open, spilling forth the terrible unearthly hues of colour that form my fears; hues born of Red.
Until my patchwork-heart, springs a leak and gushes forth crimson tides of hopes unfulfilled, coating my existence in films of red; In the colour of love, the colour of life, the colour of death - Red...

So.
I will pray to the gods of The Red till my lips are chapped and cracked
Pray that they do not inflict me with insanity when I see The Red.
Pray that they show me how best to love you most when you deserve it the least...
Pray that they understand that maybe, just maybe, that's when you need my loving the most...
And I will try, with all my patchwork heart, to believe it.