As I begged you to stay,
with bloodied wrists
and blades,
scattered on the kitchen floor
you left.
Left me to pick up your knives
and wash the blood from the sink,
me to set the table and remove the stink
of your blood,
which ran rivers down my hands
and mixed with the endless tears I cried
because you left
without saying goodbye.
YOU ARE READING
A Heart with Empty Pages
PoetryThe poems I write to help me deal with life =] ****Trigger warning: Some of this poetry addresses themes surrounding depression, self-harm, suicide, eating disorders, and sexual assault.
