as my hand drags over the page,
red ink dribbles,
or it could be blood,
fresh from my flesh...
blood stains,
beautiful, pure,
dark as night,
and will wash away my sins...
like rain.
my words may be worthless,
but my flesh is truly not,
it means something.
a voice taunts i should pull up my sleeves...
because...
what's so bad it must be hidden...?
me.
it's me.
\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\
||blood|| ~ angel
