She carved out masterpieces
On the canvas of her wrist
And left everlasting ridges
That dripped with painful bliss.
A wired mesh entagled
In tales of misery
Her heart now slowly dangled
On the edge of her melee.
The stealthy drops of sorrow
Left their last trail of warmth
As did the stream of scarlet
Dripping down her freezing palm.
And she closed her eyes bloodshot
Her pain had no one heard
And thus went the girl who thought
There was goodness in the world.
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Salt And Ink
Poetry(#1 in Poetry 14th November 2015- 14th December 2015) (5th in What's Hot- Poetry, 20th January 2016) Cover picture- grunge (WeHeartIt) "Prepared thus to close, he raised his knife, Death came later; he was stabbed by life." When my ballpoint buckles...
