Red is the color of that juicy, delicious apple that crunches when you bite into it and the juices drip down your chin and you are unashamed, because it really is that good.
Red is the color of cherries and cherry picking in Utah, then eating too many and feeling sick afterwards and not liking cherries anymore.
Red is the color of the Las Vegas sunset and sunrise after fires and pollution and the mix of all sorts of things. And you look at it and wonder how it doesn't burst into flames?
Red is the color that was your mom’s favorite color and a swimsuit she always wanted to buy and then did buy and it made you proud that she felt awesome in it.
Red is the color of lips. The awesome painted on lips that I tried once and realized that red is not my color, nor could I keep my lips from being smudged after life with 4 children.
Red is the color that Blake loves best on me, but that I don't love best on me.
Red is the color of anger as said by my friend Brookly just earlier today and I thought how ironic because I knew I would be writing about red. Red is pinched, red is mean, red is grumpy and explosive.
Red is the color of love. Deep, burning, endless, frustrating, consuming love that seems to melt your own red heart each time you feel the emotion. Red is heart.
Red is blood. The kind that fell from Spencer’s knee just the other day when he fell while running. The tears were clear and the blood was red. Blood from Jesus Christ who through his blood makes my life possible and makes saving my sometimes “red” soul attainable.