What Have I Done?

Depressed Poetry

droplets of my life

spill out upon the floor

leaving traces of my existance

in puddles of red.

the pain escapes me

if only for a short time

my life feels normal

if only for this short time.

my memories fail me

lessening this pain

that is locked away inside of me.

I turn to you

and see your crying face.

Oh god, what have I done?

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