Some Things Never Change: A Book Dedicated to Absolutely Nothing At All

Blood

All it takes is one quick poke,
The blade does most of the work if it's sharp enough,
Just slide it along,
Pretend your cutting paper,
Human paper that bleeds when the knife makes the first move,
Paper that separates easily at your whim,
Revealing the meat underneath,
Blood slickly oozing out of the opened section of flesh,
Like water rushing through a crack or chip on a drinking glass,
Seeping slowly through,
Until you hit the right spot,
A little bundle of blood vessels,
Where all the tiny little highways connect and head to the epicenter
It spurts and flies like a windy rainstorm,
Sprinkling in all directions,
Covering everything within its reach,
Blood on my pants,
Blood on my tee shirt,
And everywhere else it can reach when it spurts and squirts,
Blood on my face,
Blood on my mind,
Bloody bodies,
All the time,
Blood on my hands,
Arms and my wrists,
Blood on my neck,
And blood on my dick,
Blood is His life,
Drained by a single gash in his chest,
And as He bleeds onto me,
He gives his life,
So that I may be rejuvenated once more,
It gives life and takes it,
It encompasses life,
And it feeds me the strength to go on,
Nobody wants to share blood,
But I'm alright on taking it,
Whether they want to give or not,
And using my blade to get it................

*Note: I just laid awake at a little before 1 in the morning, just saying to myself in my head, " What the fuck did I just write?" And I answer: a simple poem about blood, our life essence, and our source of function. So as I sit here, wondering what to do next, I'm enjoying this book and might shoot for at least 11 more parts. I'm NOT making 💯 ever. Never over 69 (*insert lewd joke here XD)That's the limit. Anyways. Enjoy! Peace! ✌🏻️🤓😎😘☠️👻😈🖕🏻