Ode from an Organ

You’re beautiful and inconsistent. You are neither purely liquid nor solid; you are the mixture of both and your cells fuse together and become dangerous. Sometimes you can be too sweet or salty and you cause our host to be unbalanced. You touch every part of the body constantly feeding every cell, coloring them, blue or red. You’re ambitious, you take every opportunity to escape when you see the light above the surface and you turn crimson when you meet the air. I can give you the same air but you’re impatient. You travel through and within me and your presence sustains me. You enter blue-I give you what others need-and you leave roused. Although you are always nourishing me, you die quickly and I must wait for the marrows to create new pieces of you.
It’s unfortunate when our host makes violent contact with a foreign object. The meeting breaks the tiny vessels and both versions of you become mingled into one creating a dark purple cloud just below the skin. But as soon as this happens, the pigment begins to leave the scene and the colorless members enter for repair.
You are too generous and friendly. Portions of you stay with the undeserving like the appendix robbing so much of you from the rest of us. You’re probably not the one to blame. The heart is your commander and you must go where and when it decides. I am fortunate to be the essential aide in the changing of your hue. We will be together until my last breathe is drawn, and then you’ll be blue, until an outside force decides to open the barrier, and expose us.