Sometimes I dream in colors.
Lately my dreams have been red.
Not the nice primary red you’d see in a children’s classroom, but a deep, dark almost black red.
Like dried blood, but no rust.
The color stings my eyes.
When I wake from the red dreams I’m always screaming.
My throat is left raw like steel wool.
Red terrifies me.
I try not to dream about red.
But most nights I do.

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