I see you. But you don't see me.

We don't get along; why should we? You accept your deformity as I detest mine. Of course there is no longer any point in me being disgusted at myself... no one sees my mutation as one but me. My flaw is still deep within my skin and slowly reaching the surface through my eyes.

I wonder sometimes as I watch from afar - do you believe your eyes are a flaw too? Is that why you hide behind those shades of yours? To hide the red? To hide what seperates you from the rest of your species like I do with my grey words?

I know you don't hate the red like I do. You are practically the personification of red with your words, clothes and blood. But why are you so different with your eyes? I want to hide like you, but then I would look like a fool and you would tease me to the point where I would be blinded by the red and we would spill it so on the floor.

Again we fight - about what we don't know - you say you are only able to feel red pity, but I question if you see me with black. I don't want you to be black... the emptiness, the void of a colour does not suit you. To me you look better in red.

But you take all your red away from me and pass it on to another. I once saw her as red like you do now... but then came the pink and then all other forms of colour until I could not see a clear picture as before. She knows. She understands. I was once red in her gaze too until your brighter hue came to be.

I tried so hard to get a little red of my own, but I don't know how. We are two different cultures, two different species. But that is no excuse; for the one who is gifted with your red can speak with you and I can only bring out the black.

I weep my woes to my palemate. He always calms me down, even if he does not understand what I am talking about. I'm glad the fool is by my side. I would have lost my mind facing my emotions alone. We lie together - his thin arms around me in a gentle embrace - as he falls asleep and I gaze into his shirt. His soothing smell fills my nostrils and my mind swims in red in my state of bliss.

You are on your own again. It has been happening a lot. I worry and ask about, trying not to be as obvious and gain attention as I fear you are unhappy. Apparently you are okay - on your own to make new tunes. I turn to leave but I can't. So I sit nearby, hoping to keep you company even from afar.

It is getting harder to understand your actions now. I'm reaching closer to breaking point. You are speaking to me and making efforts not to step on a mine so we would not explode into rage. I am confused; I can barely speak to my palemate as he would tend to vanish for long periods of time. I need advice - why do you speak to me now? What do I do now that I have your attention in a positive light?

How do I not push you away?

I'm with you more than ever before. We still fight once in a while, unable to contain my jar of emotions - but we don't stay mad for long. I enjoy your company as you appear to enjoy mine. We talk about our seperate worlds and at times ourselves; the differences and similarities.

You miss your best friend. I miss my best friend. Sometimes I wonder if we are just substituting the ones we need with each other. But it is okay if you think that way - I am cancer afterall and I accept this disease called friendship.

Your sister is away with my friend and your partner, along with my palemate, have vanished too. We are alone with nothing to do. I offer to read to you - we had all fallen into a routine: I read, everyone listens. You like my idea and sit against the wall. I follow too and sit beside you.

Time passes. I occationaly look to you to see if you were bored of me yet. Sometimes you catch my gaze, sometimes you don't. I continue on for a few moments more before checking on you again to see you facing me. I freeze. Even though I can't see it - I knew the red was directly in front of my eyes.

You say nothing and I am too frighten to question. Without warning you lean in and I feel something pierce my chest... but there is no wound. You leave no physical harm when you realise what you have done; but my chest feels heavy, my head numb and my lips burning. You apologise and run away - I don't call for you back.

Idiot, there is no reason for you to say sorry.

You're scared. You are frightened of what I have to say; the promise of rejection, pain and humiliation that would leave my lips. But you should not be afraid... so don't run away.

I look for you and when I do find you; you flee. Everyone can see there is something wrong, and as the time passes with no exchanged words I fear that maybe I was the one in the wrong.

Maybe you do not fear my rejection? Are you ashamed? Is that why you flee? It was an impulsive action that made you reach for me?

Was it a mistake?

I stop chasing. My questions feel like chains on my legs that hold me down as a prisoner of my own insecurities. I call for my palemate. He doesn't answer. I've never felt so alone.

It's here. The time has come. I lock myself away in terror; it's pointless but I cannot refrain my actions. One by one my friends knock on my door - plead for an answer. I refuse to give it to them.

Days pass as I sit alone. My head buried in my arms away from sight. Two silent knocks reach me. I dare not to look.

I tighten my hold as I hear the door open. Footsteps head towards me and freeze in front. I don't move. I refuse to move.

A hand reaches my arms and I feel the heat touch my skin. We comunicate in silence: show me your face. I will not show you my face.

I begin to grow curious as to who it is. Was it one of my friends? Or strangers that were interested in my despair? Slowly I raise my gaze a little higher from the shadows of my arms.

I am blinded by the red.

I push you away; but you stay firm. Why now? Why must you hurt me now? I had hope and you ruined it! What more do you want to take?!

You hold my arms tightly and demand I stop fighting. I stop, but refuse to look at your face. I swear we were silent as statues... until your voice came through the void.

You were scared. You didn't understand the meaning of your actions. Your mind was a chaotic battle between reasoning and denial. It was not until I was gone that the pain finally cut through and the battle of reasoning was won.

You are flushed for me. As I am for you.

I finally look at you. Your red eyes in display, welcoming my own red eyes.