Blood

by Matt   Aug 5, 2004


Blood, its on the walls
its on the floor
its on my wrists
which have bled before
Death is coming
in the shape of a blade
Blood, its on the mirror
its in the sink
it seeps out of an open wound
leaves a trail behind
a trail of misery and lies
this trail leads down a drain
no time to say my goodbyes
its too late I’m gone.

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  • 20 years ago

    by xo Shan ox

    good poem keep up the great work!