Call For Blood

Folder: 
Poems 2004

The knife calls for my blood,
And who am I to deny its wants? Its needs?
The blade is sharp as it bites my flesh,
And look at how it bleeds.

Crimson wells in the gash,
Obscene in its morbid beauty,
Holding memories of years past,
And secret promises of what one day could be.

The essence of life,
And the reminder of death,
I cannot help but smile,
The pain is gone as I release my breath.

My eyes are closing,
Shutting out the world and all I wish not to see,
Death holds me close to him,
And he is as sweet as he should be.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

OMFG this is HORRIBLE (notice the emphasis displayed with the caps lock key) I can't believe I wrote this. Ack... I'm so happy I grew up.

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