I fear my own blood.
All the little scratches that turn into scars,
My self inflicted wounds or even just accidents
They place boulders above me
And I fear one day they'd crush me and be left for dead
But the moment you stepped in my life
I loved to see red
Because with every drop of my blood
A smile would grace your lips
All the wounds you traced on my skin
With knives you called words
Although I did not bleed,
You try to squeeze me dry
Each pump of blood my heart did
Was only more satisfaction for you to see
More blood for you from me
My love was greater than the harm you do
And with it, I never ran out of blood
Because all I wanted,
Even though I had nothing left to spare,
Was for you to stay in my arms
For you, my darling,
I'd bleed myself dry.
YOU ARE READING
Poems 'cause why not?
PoetryThese poems are supposed to be completely personal for only me and some for her, but why not share it? Surely, in some dimension, we all know how it feels to get our feelings toyed with, be strung along, be in pain, be happy at times too so... Here...
