Smooth and sharp,
It bit into my yielding flesh,
It hurt, yet it was sweet.
Blood dripped from my wrist,
Pooling red, a tiny river
As I stared, hyponotized.
I lay it down,
Through for the night
As I watched it steadily drip.
It's like I'm in a dream,
Watching as it leaks out,
It doesn't hurt much, but the sensation is powerful.
It's an addiction,
It's somehow sweet, soothing.
It is my simple reliever.
YOU ARE READING
Poetry Collection
PoetryThis is a collection of poems I've written for about two years. Some are a lot more recent than that, and they cover a wide range of topics. If you don't want to read one, don't. They go in no particular order. Any comments and critiques would be ve...
