Slashed wrists
Weak body
Blood stained clothes
That matched
Her bloodshot eyes.
Faultering steps
Hair dishelved
Trembling hands
Clutching at
Rugged brick walls.
Needle pierced arms
Drunken smile
A botte of Chardonay
And bare feet that walked many a mile.
Tattered clothes
Bruised ribs
Penniless wallet
Pale lips.
Toppled on the corner of 6th street
Head lay still on the wet concrete
She fell into a dreamless sleep
With no blanket to cover neither head nor feet.
This was the story of every night
Until once, nothing went right
Along with her head on the cold concrete
Lay a pool of blood underneath.
YOU ARE READING
Encrypted Anthology #wattys2016
PoetryI dabble with words and come up with poems. Sometimes they're not poems per se, but you get the gist right? Here are a couple I've written. I'm also entering this for The Wattys 2016. Would love your feedback, guys :D
