***possible triggers for those suffering from depression, self harm, and suicide***
I think I am dead.
I'm so corroded inside
from the horde of demons.
Numbness is my world:
no pain,
no happiness,
no tears,
no anger,
nothing.
So tears appear on my skin,
the blood
drip
drop
dripping
on the floor.
I don't feel,
but I can see.
See the redness pooling
and I know I'm alive,
for corpses don't bleed.
The tears only rip along lines
out of sight from the world.
Some people,
they bring flesh to metal along their wrists,
but it's a beacon.
A scream into the void for anyone,
anybody
to save them from themselves.
But I know,
the void doesn't scream back.
YOU ARE READING
When The Blood Ran Black
PoesíaWhen my demon decided it wanted out, there was nothing I could do to stop it. I could only watch as bloodied claws pierced my skin and shadows leaked through my eyes in black teardrops. It wanted out, and I was content to let it roam. >>>&g...
