August 3
choke
blood drips off my fingertips,
me wishing i would have never done this,
he lis on the floor,
as i stand there watching the blood pour.
it runs from his boody throat,
as i stand thining he deserved to choke,
he can down in his hurtful lies,
those in which i despise.
all the pain,
and all the shame,
it will continure on no more,
just as quick asme watching him fall to the floor.
cold
cold dark night,
suddenly a light,
it appears the disappears,
in a faint yet noticeable way.
lifting my head i find myself in a pool of blood,
and feeling my heart beats with what seems to be an outrageious thud,
i scream,
with my chest ripped open at the seems.
sounds of crickets,
my body just can't take this,
my eyes close,
as i began to let go.
stains
the blood stains,
a reminder of all the pain,
or maybe the bullets held in my hand,
the ones that taught me to take a stand.
for myself,
or maybe for everyone else,
the ones always put down,
making their lips form into a frown.
the look above for answers,
because their hearts feeled with what seems like cancer,
it eats away at their insides,
because they just can't hide.
taste of blood
the taste of sweet blood on your soft lips,
or the feeling of your fingertips,
against mine,
our hand now become a bind.
it drips and falls,
making me lose it all,
my ody lifted up,
just like some mental rush.
my body pushed up against yours,
making me want more,
our breath deep,
as i kiss your sweet lips as i fel it bleed.
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