Twisted Blade

I wrote a poem with a twist
a sharp something or other
upon my wrist.

Head is swirling,
blade still burning,
blood now swirling
nightmares recurring.

Red is for love
my blood is for you
like the depths of the ocean
i'll swim through.

I wrote a poem with a twist
a sharp something or other
upon my wrist.
Whats done is done
farewell i say
through twisted days,
we'll meet one day.