Red

In an unnatural state
Dizzy and in disarray
I look at my hands
Seeing what was done to me
But by who?

Red covers my fingertips
Stinging my tiniest paper cuts
I wipe my thumb
It’s just the tomato I sliced open

Dark and clumpy covers the palm of my hand
I try to wipe it off but I can’t
Too thick to be blood
Too brown to be tomato juice
I stumbled into the woods
It was simply nature’s juice

Sitting at the edge of the tub
I look down at my hands
What could it be now
I cannot move to wipe it off
Too afraid it will rub off
This time I wish for it to stay
Until I pass away