Blades
Cool and calm.
Easy and quick.
All it takes it just a nick.
A prick in the skin. Enough to see red.
Enough to take the pain away.
Blood
Thick warm and red.
Running down my wrist.
Smells metallic. And comforts my blades.
Running and running down my wrist.
YOU ARE READING
Poems
PoetryPoems based on depression. Sometimes based on my emotions. And current events. But generally they aren't.
