Something about the blood on my hands, and the blood on your sweater doesn't sit right anymore
The liquid rubies that fall off my tongue, the venomous words that fall off yours
Maybe this sick iron-y persistent game of a taste isn't worth it anymore but God, it's so sickly bittersweet
And I don't know what to do anymore. If this is what you want then so be it
I'm getting sloppy as I trail your blood deep in my veins, deep to the darkest part of my heart
I'd live off your poisonous veins if I could, and I know you know it too
Wouldn't it be so funny to find my plump body, fat with blood at your doorstep
Cold and limp? Soft as a corpse? Would you bury me in a shallow grave, like I'm just a dog?
If only I could rise again and knock on your window asking "can I come in?" And oh God at that point what would you do?
Or would you claw your way into my shallow grave? Dirt crusting under your nails? Would you crawl beside me for an eternal nap?
Or are we gonna continue this game?
While my stalker-ish eyes look for you every where I go? This is sick, isn't it? I hate you, you know that right? And I hate how I can't get enough of you, and I hate how much I crave what keeps you alive. It's sickening... it makes my stomach-ache.
It's so sickening, and God, I'm so tired.
If only we were young again?
YOU ARE READING
Blood Rose || A Collection Of my Poetry: Pt. 2
PoetryA whole bunch of my poems since like 2021 also the reason its considered mature is because most of the poems are very deep and/or triggering yes I did copy and paste the description from rose thorns but changed the year (Quick thingy the series migh...
