Poetry archive from the mental hospital

Waiting to have my blood drawn

I placidly sit and turn to air as I await my deathly fate
Take your tribute- my honey suckle blood
My arm will snap stiff for your taking
Drain my body and do what you will with it's contents
But don't be disappointed when it's contaminated with sharpened needles and ebbing poison.
Maybe you can become numb too!
You're welcome!