deepundergroundpoetry.com
The End
Blood
Runs down my leg
Hits the floor
Bright red
Not in interest of stopping
Trying to stop it
Failing
Finally it stops
I realize I messed up
Cutting equals blood
Cutting equals pleasure
But cutting equals mental hospital
Wish I could take it back
Knowing I can't
Knowing it's the end
Runs down my leg
Hits the floor
Bright red
Not in interest of stopping
Trying to stop it
Failing
Finally it stops
I realize I messed up
Cutting equals blood
Cutting equals pleasure
But cutting equals mental hospital
Wish I could take it back
Knowing I can't
Knowing it's the end
Published 16th Jul 2013
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The author encourages honest critique.
16th Jul 2013 4:59pm
It's not "the end," fellow poet. You found out something essential (if the poem is true). Now, please, act on it. Good write.
marcella1
marcella1
