Head in the Clouds {Poetry}

Ripped Heart

Late at night, when I see it's shadow arise.

A large knife, hilt held in it's palm.

My silent sobs, my silent cries.

The knife held so calm.

The sweet taint of poisonous boiled blood.

Licked from the lips of the young.

Innocent but heartbroken, their tears flood.

Drowning water in every one of our lungs.

Draw my blood, let the sweet smelled crimson drip.

Drag the blade farther into my body, deeper into my heart.

Let my mind drive me, let my heart rip.

Red liquid art, dancing across my skin from the start.

Free my heart, stop my nails from digging it out.

Save me, but leave me to burn all at the same time.

My tears are dragging through the mud and arising a drought.

I can no longer make this climb.

It drags me down like a weight in a endless pool.

No tears can spill from my eyes, but the pain crumbles within.

I am such a fool.

For it has been too long and I grow thin.

My bones weak and heavy, my body no longer able to continue.

But I can not leave this work, for the thought scares my soul and mind.