You are a catastrophe waiting to happen.
I can see it in your eyes,
the way they flit this way and that.
Your hands,
they're never still.
Always scratching at scars
that are not there yet.
Your fingers,
they twitch when you see something sharp.
Something steel and sleek,
the silver seeming to ask for blood.
Your blood or someone else's.
I see it in the way you move,
cautiously around others.
Like there are mines in your soles,
and you'll blow up if you make one wrong step.
You are a powerful,
chaotic,
catastrophic,
explosion waiting to happen.
And I happen to have a match.
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...
