My Last Gift To You
I lay there,
Barely alive
In the middle of
A puddle made of my own blood
My blond hair,
Stained a
Rusty-red
My face,
Tear-stained
And masked
With sadness
And pain
My pale skin,
Covered in blood
My eyes,
Showing nothing
But pain
And hatred
My bloody fingers
Curled around a white rose
Afraid to let go
My chest
Barely moving
My heart
Trying to find the strength
To keep beating
I try to find
A will to keep my heart beating
A will to keep myself breathing
A reason to stay alive
A reason not to pass
From this world
To the next
My fingers uncurl,
Leaving the rose
Lying in my open palm
My last gift to you
