Blood Filled Tears

It's not possible

Why is there blood on my hands

What have I done

No cuts are on me

No wounds

This cant be mine

It's bitter, cold, and dark

Where could it have come from

Should I try to find out myself

Or wait...

Stumbling out of the kitchen

Bloody handprints following me into the hall

I see my room

Dark and inviting

Too weak to continue

I collapse and start to crawl

But there's pain


Pulling back

A laugh

As the grip tightens

A sob, a cry

Escapes my lips

As the pressure disappears

Blood splatters

Across my face, my clothes, and in my hair

Where is it coming from

It's not stopping

More falls down my lips

Bitter, and colder, and darker

By the minute

Spitting more and more from my mouth

Then I realize

My Face

It's coming from my face

I drag my hand across my chin

And my hand starts to shiver

My shirt is soaked

My hair is heavy

I tremble as I head toward the mirror

From my eyes down I am

Blood soaked

It is then I realize

I am crying

Blood Filled Tears

I'm not sweet, warm, and lighthearted

Like you thought

Like I thought

I am bitter, cold and dark

Don't believe me

Then come

Come and taste my

Blood Filled Tears

Author's Notes/Comments: 

The first dark/good poem I ever wrote...from here..they just got better and darker

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