Crimson blood and wasted years,
taken time and healing fears.
Dark red wine, in a transparent glass
Yet a holder with a broken past
Drinking from the half-filled polished mirror
the reflection is one from threat.
A shadow in a mindful darkness of regret.
Crimson blood and wasted years,
Sliced up arms, with confused peers,
blood stained loving
acid tears, forgiven running.
Colder drafts beneath the door
with another smashed glass lying on the floor.
Frozen in place.
A paralyzing sight for an unknown human eye.
Like a broken glass,
there she lies.
And how it makes you shudder,
like you used to hide from thunder.
Yet there you stand, with a significant other.
The transparent glass, is so dreadfully sharp.
Tearing your skin apart.
Crimson blood and wasted years.
Transparent glass, once so shiny and clean.
Now on the floor she lies,
with oh so dreadfully, pale eyes.
YOU ARE READING
Chemicals
PoetryThere are thoughts in my head laced with chemicals and dread i'll write them all down word for word, in a series of rhymes this way I wont crash and burn. (Trigger Warning)