14.01.2026

RED

Red was the first colour I learned to fear
and the first I learned to love.

As a child, it lived in scraped knees, frozen cheeks, and woollen mittens drying by the heater.
It tasted like lingonberry jam, smelled like iron and snow, and sounded like laughter cracking through winter air.

Later, red became warning.
Voices raised.
Doors slammed.
Lines crossed that could not be uncrossed.

But red is stubborn.
It refuses to stay only a bruise.

Now it returns as courage —
the pulse that keeps me here,
the lipstick I wear when I choose myself,
the quiet flame that says I survived.

Red is not just anger or danger.
It is blood remembering how to flow.
It is love that learned to burn
without destroying the house.

Red, finally, is mine. ❤️

💫Maggie

The Afterlove Voice 💫