The Color of Blood

by Mona Kabbani

I would recognize you by your laugh, your smell, the way you breathe, and even if I’d lost all sense of sight I’d know you by the rhythm your footsteps make to accompany the music your existence creates in my head. I know you and I have loved you not by the absence of your flaws but by the presence of your darkness.

UGHHHHH

How deluded I had allowed myself to become in the pursuit of love.

Love is not difficult. It should not hurt. But like alcohol, when you drink the right amount of poison, it can feel deceivingly good.