Drip
Drip, Drip.
Plush,
Plush.
Listen as the it flows
down my arm
and lands on the tile
that now runs red
with my blood.
Watch as it flows down
my arm from the cut.
Deep and painless.
As the crimson color tints
my flesh I look into the
mirrow and see
someone I don't know.
A girl, someone who is pretty,
kind, sweet, and has no pain.
I smash the image causing
more crimson cuts, that begin
to add to the flow from the
wound above.
I watch as things begin
to make sense.
As things begin to spin
and turn right side up.
As I lay on the ground I think.
I think of all that was done
to me, done to them,
but what does it matter now.
It is all over.
Oh look things are
now darkening,
soon I'll not be able to see.
I'll lay in the blood
that once filled my living body.
Wondering what could have
been different and what was.
And now with my last breaths
I'll say I loved him with
all my heart and......
Gone!
Kelsea Osterman
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/red-73/
