Save me
I'm running, running, running through the trees
Your blood is all over me
Or is it me that bleeds
Onto you
Our hands were intertwined
And then separated
By forces that claimed they were divine
I love you
Is that so wrong
But we were torn apart
And ripped at the seam
The blood won't wash away
I don't know what to do
YOU ARE READING
Metanoia
PoesíaMetanoia: [Noun] Change in one's way of life resulting from penitence or spiritual conversion. Poems, songs, and the occasional letter.
