My hand reaches for the bucket of blood in which I find my soul in.
It has killed itself even though I didn't want it to.
YOU ARE READING
Bleeding Blue
PoetryI do not see color anymore. I cannot love no more. I don't think I want to live furthermore. Genre: Poetry
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My hand reaches for the bucket of blood in which I find my soul in.
It has killed itself even though I didn't want it to.
