My Bloody Editor

At first I got mad.
Red lines all over my paper.
My poem was so soaked with blood.
So many comments that were rough.

I read what you said, again.
I realized that you read my poem.
You liked my poem.
I smiled.

My content was OK.
My poem was rough.
Your input was right.
I rewrote my poem.

I rewrote it for you.
More blood you added.
I love the blood.
My poem bleeds for you.

I have a bloody smile.
You bloody well liked it.
I am in bloody hell.
I am in bloody heaven.

I am a bloody fool.
It doesn't matter
if you read it, again.
It matters that you commented.

Bleed for me
and I will bleed for you.
Revenge is so sweet.
I can't stop laughing.