The blood runs thick,
Like your red river flowing.
It's falls like a waterfall,
A waterfall that's growing.
It lands in a puddle,
On the tiled floor.
I watch the blood slow,
And I know I need more.
This pain is a drug,
An addictive thing.
I know it's not good,
But it makes my body sing.
This red river,
Its rapids move fast.
A perfect sight,
One meant to last.
Like all your problems,
Wiped up with a cloth.
Pain is a light,
And I am a moth.
This pain is just there,
I don't know how to describe it.
It's amazing, beautiful, wonderful,
And private.
It's not like it's a group thing,
You don't want to be seen.
You lock the door,
And wish it was all just a dream.
With that life were better,
That everyone were friends.
That pain didn't exist,
But you make this the end
You make your last slit,
You think "No one will miss her."
You lay your head back,
And drown in the Red River.
-------------------------------------
I wrote this one a long time ago, so please don't judge. This is probably my favourite one from my first breakout in poems. I kinda just wrote the first one in this book a ling time ago and a bunch just grew off of it. I'm only putting the ones I come up with right away or the really good ones on here... I might put a few more. But anyways, bye...
