05.08.2013
Drip, the nail scratches out an outline
A flower taking shape.
Drip, the thorns are made
And the blade begins to slip.
Cast, blade aside and begin to sketch
A picture made in red.
Cast, in flesh and blood
An image of the past.
Dry, the drawing begins to settle in
A browning stain remains.
Dry, tears and sorrow
A release and her spirit flies
High above her sadness
Last one awake, she bleeds
Her heart now hard like a cherry pip
When her wrists go drip, drip, drip.
Drip, the nail scratches out an outline
A flower taking shape.
Drip, the thorns are made
And the blade begins to slip.
Cast, blade aside and begin to sketch
A picture made in red.
Cast, in flesh and blood
An image of the past.
Dry, the drawing begins to settle in
A browning stain remains.
Dry, tears and sorrow
A release and her spirit flies
High above her sadness
Last one awake, she bleeds
Her heart now hard like a cherry pip
When her wrists go drip, drip, drip.
posted from Bloggeroid
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