They say blood is ticker than water. Perhaps it is. I wouldn’t know. All I know is that the blood I shed weighs heavier in the scale than the tears they made me cry.
Water is transparent, transparent and unnoticed like all those invisible people in my life. Solely the salt taste of tears sets them apart from the rain, the rain that never stops falling from the sky in this land. I like rain. I wish I could cry like a thunderstorm, rain down my tears on their parade and stain their skin with the salt of my sadness.
Blood is red, red like nothing else. Red will be noticed; red will be accounted for, red… Red will be the mark that never leaves, the wound that heals but leaves a scar in the skin of the universe. Never to be forgotten.
The blood I will shed, one drop will overdue the weight of all the sweat and tears Life has demanded me. And not one drop will fall, no, a thunderstorm will cloud the mental sky of the invisible people, colour their senselessness ruby red. Their transparent lives will blister under the vermillion fear, their eyes will be opened and their skin will sense, sense the tingling of the rain.
When I wake, I will wake with me a kingdom.