It was the blade;
Which curved my arms
With words made into artistic lines
Which i couldnt express it to anyoneIt was mesmerising
I thought,
To see the dark red blood
Flowing over my handThe blood guided its way upto my elbow
I didnt bother to clean,
Instead stared at itThe pain wasnt still enough
As it helped me to calm downthe blade was my escape;
From everything that was happening around me
From everyone that stabbed my heartThe poker straight marks on my hand
Didnt stop my tears
Instead it reminded me of them
The ones who hurt meBut still i kept convincing my mind
To keep on cutting through my fleshwhat was it for?
I never bothered to answer that question
i had no reply for it
For what i was doing was dumbI was bleeding and i was tired
I couldnt do anything
Everything was black
And it was frightening .-f.f.f
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Mortal | ✔
Poesía| p o e t r y | sometimes you just need to write a poem to let yourself free. Highest rank| #1 in poetrycontest [15.06.19]